The world is becoming an increasingly difficult place to be in for the tender hearted.
That is all I have to say for today...
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
Thursday, November 20, 2014
Reality Check
The undeniable fact is:
1) I'm mature...old by some standards I guess;
2) I can't compete with the younger competition;
3) Guess I don't want really to compete;
4) If he's all agog over a pop-eyed, fake eyelash wearing, silicone enhanced, Cheshire grinning 'woman' he sure ain't going to be content with me especially if the showstopper is still performing...then he's definitely going to prefer that trampoline over me (even though I still think I'm pretty fine).
God I hate Facebook.
1) I'm mature...old by some standards I guess;
2) I can't compete with the younger competition;
3) Guess I don't want really to compete;
4) If he's all agog over a pop-eyed, fake eyelash wearing, silicone enhanced, Cheshire grinning 'woman' he sure ain't going to be content with me especially if the showstopper is still performing...then he's definitely going to prefer that trampoline over me (even though I still think I'm pretty fine).
God I hate Facebook.
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Andy
This is Andy. He is truly my oldest friend. I think he is as old as me because I cannot remember a time without him.
He used to have a music box inside him. My mother removed it and he became the protector of our money. You see, my father was so very lost. He couldn't hold a job and would live from drink to drink. He would drain my poor mother of every cent of our money he could get his hands on.
My mother hid money from her paycheck in Andy. That and what little bit of good jewelry she had. Whatever wasn't nailed down was fair game for my father to pawn or trade. He never figured out Andy was our protector.
Long live Andy.
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Survival Mode
Daughter, LB, is an actress trying to make it in L.A.
I think she is talented. I support her.
Why wouldn't I?
I lived 27 years with her father who is a frustrated performer. I know first hand how that misery of not living your authentic life, not being your true self, fucks with EVERYTHING. Especially interpersonal relationships and self-esteem.
So I say 'go for it!'
I was a performer back in the day. In local theater; dinner theater to be exact. Had some of my BEST days there. But I recognized early on that I had neither the drive nor the confidence (and let's face it, probably not the talent either) to pursue a professional career. And though I am a passionate patron of the arts I have little desire to climb back on the boards myself. But I recognize and can appreciate someone who does. I firmly believe in pursuing the dream.
But pursuing that dream certainly comes with cost. Borderline poverty is a given. You also open yourself up to the unsolicited condemnation of others. Sometimes even those close to you.
LB recently had an experience at her 'survival job'. She works at an ice cream shop; a VERY upscale ice cream shop.
LB is a cheerful girl, very adept at the whole customer service thing. Very personable. And very attractive, if I must say so myself.
So this one day she's waiting on customers when one guy she is serving decides he's going to make her day.
"Working serving ice cream cones; so that's your BIG goal in life? When I grow up, I'm gonna work in an ice cream store??"
She was taken aback. She didn't respond...fortunately. Could have cost her her job if she did...in the manner in which she wanted to respond.
I asked her what this gem was like. Big and fat though expensively dressed.
Hmmm...I betcha he decided he was going to exact out his insecurities and bitterness on this smiling, albeit-restrained-due-to-work-obligations servant this day. He was probably getting back at every female who rebuffed him via my daughter.
Why do some feel the need to make themselves look good at the expense of others??
Also, closer to home, why do people who know you well, who have grown up in your neighborhood, been to your home for social gatherings, claim to be friends, comment, condescend and question your choices and goals in life. My example that comes to mind is 'Big Red' and her daughter 'Nearly as Big Red'. Big Red is large and in charge in our neighborhood. Neighbors for 20 years now we know each other well. Big Red will never miss an opportunity to sing the praises of her very well educated, well employed son and daughter. Her exact words when she is congratulated on her daughter's post grad school job 'Thank you. Yes she did get a job. She is employed. "Very well employed." And then her eyes dart around the table to see who got that. Good enough...happy for them.
Daughter, Nearly Big Red, is surly. She is very haughty and really kind of in-your-face with her breed of confidence. She recently dumped her boyfriend of nearly six years because he wasn't motivated enough in life. He was still in college studying to be a teacher. I met him a couple of times. Nice guy. Too nice for her apparently.
Now Big Red is about five years older than me and was unceremoniously dumped from her sales job about four years ago. It's the luck of the draw. She has diligently tried to find employment to no avail. Not one to sit around and feel sorry for herself, she admirably fills her days with friends and volunteer work. She also has taken a stab at selling skin care products.
Remember that little fact, will you?
LB, in attempts to supplement her already meager income, is now selling Arbonne skin care products. When she told me this, I cringed. She is all gung ho because she really believes in the product and thinks she's going to have moderate success in it. I recognize it for what it is...a pyramid scheme. I tried to explain to her that you don't necessarily make money from your sales but from bringing in other people under you. And I cringed because I know darn well that pretty soon everyone she knows is going to want to run the other way when they see her coming.
So sure enough she asked for all my neighborhood friends' names and contact info. She was going to cold call them and give them the old sales pitch.
So one of the people she calls is Nearly-Big-Red who she has known for years and knows of LB's pursuit of an acting career out in L.A.
LB had told me she was going to call Nearly-Big-Red and I dreaded that one.
LB said she was so rude and hung up on her!
Crazy! Maybe she needs to be reminded of the fact of when her mother was unemployed I purchased several hundred dollars worth of skin care products from her.
I haven't seen Nearly-Big-Red since that happened but you can best believe that old momma is gonna let her know I know.
Anyway, I cannot even fathom doing or saying something rude to someone because of their goal in life. Does this make them feel better about their own miserable existence? Are they jealous that they are not throwing caution to the wind and pursing what their heart desires rather than pulling in the big bucks in a job they simply abhor? Jealousy and envy, pure and simple I think. That's what I tell LB at least. Why would anyone do such a thing? Does it really give that much satisfaction to tear someone down.
Makes one wonder, doesn't it?
I think she is talented. I support her.
Why wouldn't I?
I lived 27 years with her father who is a frustrated performer. I know first hand how that misery of not living your authentic life, not being your true self, fucks with EVERYTHING. Especially interpersonal relationships and self-esteem.
So I say 'go for it!'
I was a performer back in the day. In local theater; dinner theater to be exact. Had some of my BEST days there. But I recognized early on that I had neither the drive nor the confidence (and let's face it, probably not the talent either) to pursue a professional career. And though I am a passionate patron of the arts I have little desire to climb back on the boards myself. But I recognize and can appreciate someone who does. I firmly believe in pursuing the dream.
But pursuing that dream certainly comes with cost. Borderline poverty is a given. You also open yourself up to the unsolicited condemnation of others. Sometimes even those close to you.
LB recently had an experience at her 'survival job'. She works at an ice cream shop; a VERY upscale ice cream shop.
LB is a cheerful girl, very adept at the whole customer service thing. Very personable. And very attractive, if I must say so myself.
So this one day she's waiting on customers when one guy she is serving decides he's going to make her day.
"Working serving ice cream cones; so that's your BIG goal in life? When I grow up, I'm gonna work in an ice cream store??"
She was taken aback. She didn't respond...fortunately. Could have cost her her job if she did...in the manner in which she wanted to respond.
I asked her what this gem was like. Big and fat though expensively dressed.
Hmmm...I betcha he decided he was going to exact out his insecurities and bitterness on this smiling, albeit-restrained-due-to-work-obligations servant this day. He was probably getting back at every female who rebuffed him via my daughter.
Why do some feel the need to make themselves look good at the expense of others??
Also, closer to home, why do people who know you well, who have grown up in your neighborhood, been to your home for social gatherings, claim to be friends, comment, condescend and question your choices and goals in life. My example that comes to mind is 'Big Red' and her daughter 'Nearly as Big Red'. Big Red is large and in charge in our neighborhood. Neighbors for 20 years now we know each other well. Big Red will never miss an opportunity to sing the praises of her very well educated, well employed son and daughter. Her exact words when she is congratulated on her daughter's post grad school job 'Thank you. Yes she did get a job. She is employed. "Very well employed." And then her eyes dart around the table to see who got that. Good enough...happy for them.
Daughter, Nearly Big Red, is surly. She is very haughty and really kind of in-your-face with her breed of confidence. She recently dumped her boyfriend of nearly six years because he wasn't motivated enough in life. He was still in college studying to be a teacher. I met him a couple of times. Nice guy. Too nice for her apparently.
Now Big Red is about five years older than me and was unceremoniously dumped from her sales job about four years ago. It's the luck of the draw. She has diligently tried to find employment to no avail. Not one to sit around and feel sorry for herself, she admirably fills her days with friends and volunteer work. She also has taken a stab at selling skin care products.
Remember that little fact, will you?
LB, in attempts to supplement her already meager income, is now selling Arbonne skin care products. When she told me this, I cringed. She is all gung ho because she really believes in the product and thinks she's going to have moderate success in it. I recognize it for what it is...a pyramid scheme. I tried to explain to her that you don't necessarily make money from your sales but from bringing in other people under you. And I cringed because I know darn well that pretty soon everyone she knows is going to want to run the other way when they see her coming.
So sure enough she asked for all my neighborhood friends' names and contact info. She was going to cold call them and give them the old sales pitch.
So one of the people she calls is Nearly-Big-Red who she has known for years and knows of LB's pursuit of an acting career out in L.A.
LB had told me she was going to call Nearly-Big-Red and I dreaded that one.
LB said she was so rude and hung up on her!
Crazy! Maybe she needs to be reminded of the fact of when her mother was unemployed I purchased several hundred dollars worth of skin care products from her.
I haven't seen Nearly-Big-Red since that happened but you can best believe that old momma is gonna let her know I know.
Anyway, I cannot even fathom doing or saying something rude to someone because of their goal in life. Does this make them feel better about their own miserable existence? Are they jealous that they are not throwing caution to the wind and pursing what their heart desires rather than pulling in the big bucks in a job they simply abhor? Jealousy and envy, pure and simple I think. That's what I tell LB at least. Why would anyone do such a thing? Does it really give that much satisfaction to tear someone down.
Makes one wonder, doesn't it?
Saturday, November 15, 2014
Duty Calls
My friend that I reconnected with in September contacted me today and invited me to meet her and her husband in New Orleans over Christmas. Either 'Nawlins' or Jamaica.
Wow...I would love to...
But I can't.
And I'm a bit jealous that they can.
L is a couple of years younger than me. Her husband J is my age, I believe. They married and had their family a lot earlier than I did so their youngest is around 27. All their children are grown and educated and pretty much started on their own path.
So L and J don't necessarily have to be home central for the holidays.
And L is one of eight kids so she also doesn't have full custodial care of her parents, both in their 80's.
So they're definitely at a different point than me. And did I mention that her husband is 'retired'? Yes, he is a CPA and he retired from his company, they moved to the beach and he now does accounting for several hotels. His job is flexible; hers too as she is a therapist.
Nice.
I truly enjoy doing the whole home for the holidays thing, I really do, but this flexibility is proving intriguing too. It would be nice to at least have the option. With my plans of spending 24 hours back east for my father's death anniversary I have gotten resistance from my mom. Can you imagine if I just deep sixed holidays at home all together?? Yikes! Sacrilege!
Maybe it's more about raising your family up to be independent... Even though L and J actually have grandchildren they don't seem to have the need to be present in their lives all.the.time. I think our society has somewhat blurred the lines of familial responsibilities and expectations. It seems that children are taking longer to launch and be independent and become grown ups. I concede, I believe it's the parents' fault and I can be guilty in this regard. We all seem to just want to swoop in and rescue them.
But that doesn't help them achieve maturity, independence and self-esteem, does it? But it's also hard to do And I am thinking that it's actually harder for divorced parents. I mean, we probably feel we've already let them down in some way so why not try and make everything else OK?
Not a good idea.
I'm always learning...self appraisal, self awareness. When I stayed with L and J in September it was a good scenario for me. They have been married 30 years. Certainly have had their ups and downs but seemingly are truly one unit. A team. We hear about that all the time but do we ever really see examples. Well I now have. And it is refreshing. Maybe their children are so independent because their parents are so grounded. And devoted to one another.
Yikes. I'm in trouble.
You know I skirt the issues of my marriage in my posts but I do have to say this, it wasn't always crappy with former spouse and myself. We used to laugh - ALOT - and I believe it's so important. When we stopped laughing...well that's when the cracks began to show. And we were a team for awhile...a long while. Why former spouse used to tell me quite often "[my name], you are my rock". Don't really recall when that got off the track but it was a gradual, eroding type of process. I had many people comment to me over the years that former spouse and I seemed to be soul mates. Even our daughter-in-law commented once that for all the crap, we were really, truly soul mates. Oh my...
So L and J have cracked the code. They have gotten it right. You know I was just reading online one very, very important trait to make sure your mate possesses...and that is how they will react...how they will treat you in illness. Oh, you say people certainly step up in times of trouble, in times of sickness. Actually, not always. Now in the case of L and J, he has seen her at death's door. She was very, very ill - for about six months - with C-diff (that was misdiagnosed and that mistake nearly killed her). She was so ill that she lost all her hair, lost control over her bowels, was so weak she couldn't walk or raise her arms and she still has - and will have - residual health deficits because of it. Through it all J was her rock.
I remember an instance, maybe a year or so before our divorce, when former spouse and I both said we didn't want to be nursemaids. Ouch. I said it first because I was so fed up with his not taking care of himself. At nearly 300 pounds, he was just getting more and more sedentary and his health was starting to suffer for it. I tried to cook healthy, balanced meals and encourage him to join me on my daily walks to no avail. "I don't think you're supposed to exercise every day" and he was serious when saying this! So I told him I didn't want to be a nursemaid, thinking it may goad him into taking better care of himself. Nope. He just reacted with "Well I don't want to be a nursemaid either."
Also empathy on his part was ALWAYS lacking in our relationship. I used to say that he had cornered the market on pain and suffering because no one was ever as sick or sicker than him. I actually had gone through some very scary heart issues - for several years - most of which he missed when he was working overseas. When he came home one Christmas and I was having a bout of heart racing, he mimicked me and chided "oh my heart, my heart". Not cool.
So anyway, don't know how I got on the path of talking about how insensitive or boorish spousal behavior can become but I know this...L and J have it figured out. The partnership thing. The respect thing. The mutual love thing.
And you can't bottle that. Which is too bad...
So by having this wonderful, solid marriage, they can go to New Orleans at Christmas.
Nice.
Wow...I would love to...
But I can't.
And I'm a bit jealous that they can.
L is a couple of years younger than me. Her husband J is my age, I believe. They married and had their family a lot earlier than I did so their youngest is around 27. All their children are grown and educated and pretty much started on their own path.
So L and J don't necessarily have to be home central for the holidays.
And L is one of eight kids so she also doesn't have full custodial care of her parents, both in their 80's.
So they're definitely at a different point than me. And did I mention that her husband is 'retired'? Yes, he is a CPA and he retired from his company, they moved to the beach and he now does accounting for several hotels. His job is flexible; hers too as she is a therapist.
Nice.
I truly enjoy doing the whole home for the holidays thing, I really do, but this flexibility is proving intriguing too. It would be nice to at least have the option. With my plans of spending 24 hours back east for my father's death anniversary I have gotten resistance from my mom. Can you imagine if I just deep sixed holidays at home all together?? Yikes! Sacrilege!
Maybe it's more about raising your family up to be independent... Even though L and J actually have grandchildren they don't seem to have the need to be present in their lives all.the.time. I think our society has somewhat blurred the lines of familial responsibilities and expectations. It seems that children are taking longer to launch and be independent and become grown ups. I concede, I believe it's the parents' fault and I can be guilty in this regard. We all seem to just want to swoop in and rescue them.
But that doesn't help them achieve maturity, independence and self-esteem, does it? But it's also hard to do And I am thinking that it's actually harder for divorced parents. I mean, we probably feel we've already let them down in some way so why not try and make everything else OK?
Not a good idea.
I'm always learning...self appraisal, self awareness. When I stayed with L and J in September it was a good scenario for me. They have been married 30 years. Certainly have had their ups and downs but seemingly are truly one unit. A team. We hear about that all the time but do we ever really see examples. Well I now have. And it is refreshing. Maybe their children are so independent because their parents are so grounded. And devoted to one another.
Yikes. I'm in trouble.
You know I skirt the issues of my marriage in my posts but I do have to say this, it wasn't always crappy with former spouse and myself. We used to laugh - ALOT - and I believe it's so important. When we stopped laughing...well that's when the cracks began to show. And we were a team for awhile...a long while. Why former spouse used to tell me quite often "[my name], you are my rock". Don't really recall when that got off the track but it was a gradual, eroding type of process. I had many people comment to me over the years that former spouse and I seemed to be soul mates. Even our daughter-in-law commented once that for all the crap, we were really, truly soul mates. Oh my...
So L and J have cracked the code. They have gotten it right. You know I was just reading online one very, very important trait to make sure your mate possesses...and that is how they will react...how they will treat you in illness. Oh, you say people certainly step up in times of trouble, in times of sickness. Actually, not always. Now in the case of L and J, he has seen her at death's door. She was very, very ill - for about six months - with C-diff (that was misdiagnosed and that mistake nearly killed her). She was so ill that she lost all her hair, lost control over her bowels, was so weak she couldn't walk or raise her arms and she still has - and will have - residual health deficits because of it. Through it all J was her rock.
I remember an instance, maybe a year or so before our divorce, when former spouse and I both said we didn't want to be nursemaids. Ouch. I said it first because I was so fed up with his not taking care of himself. At nearly 300 pounds, he was just getting more and more sedentary and his health was starting to suffer for it. I tried to cook healthy, balanced meals and encourage him to join me on my daily walks to no avail. "I don't think you're supposed to exercise every day" and he was serious when saying this! So I told him I didn't want to be a nursemaid, thinking it may goad him into taking better care of himself. Nope. He just reacted with "Well I don't want to be a nursemaid either."
Also empathy on his part was ALWAYS lacking in our relationship. I used to say that he had cornered the market on pain and suffering because no one was ever as sick or sicker than him. I actually had gone through some very scary heart issues - for several years - most of which he missed when he was working overseas. When he came home one Christmas and I was having a bout of heart racing, he mimicked me and chided "oh my heart, my heart". Not cool.
So anyway, don't know how I got on the path of talking about how insensitive or boorish spousal behavior can become but I know this...L and J have it figured out. The partnership thing. The respect thing. The mutual love thing.
And you can't bottle that. Which is too bad...
So by having this wonderful, solid marriage, they can go to New Orleans at Christmas.
Nice.
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Orbiting the Mother Ship
As I wrote in my post '50', this Christmas I will be observing the 50th anniversary of my father's death the only place that I, in good conscience, can this year - at his graveside 1600 miles from my current home. I will leave Christmas Eve morning, arrive in the city of my birth midday and spend the rest of the day absorbing said fair city. In the evening I hope to attend Christmas Eve service at the church near my hotel. Christmas morning I will take the subway to the cemetery. I am, in an odd way, really looking forward to this pilgrimage.
I have not been, however, looking forward to informing my mother of my plans.
I bought my ticket back in May. Waited months to tell my children that I would be making this trip alone and assuring them that I will be home Christmas evening whereby we can still have a meaningful celebration.
But I have been extremely hesitant to tell my mother...because my gut was telling me that her reaction would most likely NOT be favorable.
And it wasn't.
I took off a half day of work today to take mom to her opthomalogist's appointment. I have been doing these appointments with her lately because her eyesight has gotten so bad (cataracts - which she has always REFUSED to have removed - and now macular degeneration.)
On the drive over she was telling me all about her recent bouts with insomnia. How she lays in bed at night unable to sleep and how she starts rehashing old stuff in her mind. OLD STUFF. Situations that happened decades ago. With people long dead.
"I'm thinking that I would have done some things differently"
Hmmm...
"Interesting" I thought to myself. Mom had NEVER EVER intimated that she was ever remorseful for anything she's ever done or said in her life. She just never seems to have that reflective quality. She does, however, usually turn everything to her advantage, i.e., circumstances and/or other people precipitated her bitterness with life in general and her reactions therefor.
In short, mom is not a happy person. Never has been. Of course, she's had a lot of crap in her life to deal with but haven't we all? Isn't that life?
So I'm setting you up with the picture of mom. She's never had friends - well, one from high school that lives 1000 miles away that she talks to by phone once in awhile. But NEVER any social connections. No neighbors to laugh with, no friends from 35 years of working, no friends at all.
And family? Mom finds fault with those who are left. Her only nephew, my cousin N, she hasn't seen nor spoken to him in about 20 years. I maintain a close relationship with him and it pains him that she doesn't want anything to do with him.
"I don't know what I did..." he sadly told me a couple of years ago. I assured him that it was nothing that he did.
I don't fare much better. I made peace a long time ago that my mom was not going to be my friend. Nor my nurturer. Nor my cheering section. Nor my place of comfort.
Yep. Mother didn't mother.
Anyway, you can kind of get the picture.
So today I am listening. I try to be to my mom everything that she is not to me. I really do...because I am all she has. And it is hard because, boy, she sure does know how to lash out and push the old buttons. Back in my younger days I could go head to head with her and debate a point. A point, I might add, that I was to never win. If a person cannot discuss something rationally you can never have any kind of thoughtful resolution. It took me quite awhile to learn that one.
She wouldn't go into detail about just what she thinks about. She did concede that some thoughts have to do with my father...and her mother and father...and my stepfather. Individually, of course, not collectively.
Well I could think of a couple of times when she was downright cruel to her mother, my grandmother. Like the time my grandmother, who must have been in her late 70s, was - thinking that she had done something very responsible and caring - informing my mom that she had had a will drawn up and that C, mom's older sister, was the executor and that everything would be split 50/50. I remember my mother was incensed and berated my grandmother for not choosing her, the younger daughter. Her reasoning? Who knows?
Or maybe mom was thinking back to the time when my grandmother had very gently questioned her about her impending plans to remarry. I'm not sure exactly why but my grandmother was concerned over mom's plans to marry the man who would become my stepfather. Oh I remember that 'conversation'. Mom hit the roof. She and I and my grandmother were riding in our car and mom stopped and ordered my weeping grandmother OUT! Yep. That was horrible. I was eleven and my heart was breaking at the scene of my beloved, tiny little grandmother dejectedly getting out of our car and my mother screeching off. That little scene got Grandmother, Aunt C and me UNINVITED to the wedding.
So, yeah, there are some things that I bet weigh on mom's mind...and heart, apparently.
And did I mention that mom is horribly afraid of death? And I bet she figures out a way to cheat it!
So after the appointment we went to dinner and I figured I would finally tell her.
"This year Christmas is going to be a little different" I started.
And I proceeded to tell her my plans.
The great thing about mom is that she doesn't hold anything back. You know exactly WHEN you've stepped in it.
She sat across from me smirking and slowly shaking her head. The 'condescending shake' is what my son likes to call it.
I explained that I would be home in the evening on Christmas Day and we could do dinner then. Not a good idea - too late.
'Well, maybe I'll take a trip somewhere too'
UGH this is not a pleasure trip...not a vacation.
'Well I have NO desire to relive that day' And so on and so on the recriminations continued.
Not surprised. Why did I hold out any hope that she would understand...or empathize...or just support me in this decision?
Nope, it was all about her. Just like it always has been.
Then sitting there at dinner she did precede to relive the day. How my grandmother and Aunt C were expected at our apartment for Christmas dinner and how she was preparing and my dad was MIA. She just figured that he was out on a tear. At 11:00 a.m. the county cop called and very matter of factly asked if she owned a '63 Falcon and if (NAME) was her husband and that he was dead. Killed in a head on collision in the wee hours of Christmas day. How the Times-Herald reported that she too had been killed in the accident because her shoes, which were in the car, were strewn about at the scene of the accident. How wonderful her place of employment was to her (the only positive thing she had to say in the whole dissertation). How my Aunt C and her son, my cousin N - my mother's nephew who she so selfishly will no longer associate with - went to the morgue and identified my father. NO ONE SHOULD HAVE TO GO TO THE MORGUE ON CHRISTMAS DAY. Cousin N was 24 years old - the age of my daughter. I cannot imagine. How she didn't remember much about the first few days except that my father was given a military burial - gun salute and Taps. And how my father's family left right from the funeral to drive 12 hours back to their home state. She faulted them for this but the truth of the matter was they all probably had hourly jobs and in their meager existence time was money.
All about how she felt.
No mention of me.
Of course not.
And she wonders why on earth I want to go there.
I want to pay my respects to my father, something that I have never been encouraged nor allowed to do. If I cry at his grave site-- I'm overdue. I want to face my grief. I want to continue my journey in reconciling that grief. I want to continue to progress and love and feel and have emotions.
Basically I don't want to be my mother.
I have not been, however, looking forward to informing my mother of my plans.
I bought my ticket back in May. Waited months to tell my children that I would be making this trip alone and assuring them that I will be home Christmas evening whereby we can still have a meaningful celebration.
But I have been extremely hesitant to tell my mother...because my gut was telling me that her reaction would most likely NOT be favorable.
And it wasn't.
I took off a half day of work today to take mom to her opthomalogist's appointment. I have been doing these appointments with her lately because her eyesight has gotten so bad (cataracts - which she has always REFUSED to have removed - and now macular degeneration.)
On the drive over she was telling me all about her recent bouts with insomnia. How she lays in bed at night unable to sleep and how she starts rehashing old stuff in her mind. OLD STUFF. Situations that happened decades ago. With people long dead.
"I'm thinking that I would have done some things differently"
Hmmm...
"Interesting" I thought to myself. Mom had NEVER EVER intimated that she was ever remorseful for anything she's ever done or said in her life. She just never seems to have that reflective quality. She does, however, usually turn everything to her advantage, i.e., circumstances and/or other people precipitated her bitterness with life in general and her reactions therefor.
In short, mom is not a happy person. Never has been. Of course, she's had a lot of crap in her life to deal with but haven't we all? Isn't that life?
So I'm setting you up with the picture of mom. She's never had friends - well, one from high school that lives 1000 miles away that she talks to by phone once in awhile. But NEVER any social connections. No neighbors to laugh with, no friends from 35 years of working, no friends at all.
And family? Mom finds fault with those who are left. Her only nephew, my cousin N, she hasn't seen nor spoken to him in about 20 years. I maintain a close relationship with him and it pains him that she doesn't want anything to do with him.
"I don't know what I did..." he sadly told me a couple of years ago. I assured him that it was nothing that he did.
I don't fare much better. I made peace a long time ago that my mom was not going to be my friend. Nor my nurturer. Nor my cheering section. Nor my place of comfort.
Yep. Mother didn't mother.
Anyway, you can kind of get the picture.
So today I am listening. I try to be to my mom everything that she is not to me. I really do...because I am all she has. And it is hard because, boy, she sure does know how to lash out and push the old buttons. Back in my younger days I could go head to head with her and debate a point. A point, I might add, that I was to never win. If a person cannot discuss something rationally you can never have any kind of thoughtful resolution. It took me quite awhile to learn that one.
She wouldn't go into detail about just what she thinks about. She did concede that some thoughts have to do with my father...and her mother and father...and my stepfather. Individually, of course, not collectively.
Well I could think of a couple of times when she was downright cruel to her mother, my grandmother. Like the time my grandmother, who must have been in her late 70s, was - thinking that she had done something very responsible and caring - informing my mom that she had had a will drawn up and that C, mom's older sister, was the executor and that everything would be split 50/50. I remember my mother was incensed and berated my grandmother for not choosing her, the younger daughter. Her reasoning? Who knows?
Or maybe mom was thinking back to the time when my grandmother had very gently questioned her about her impending plans to remarry. I'm not sure exactly why but my grandmother was concerned over mom's plans to marry the man who would become my stepfather. Oh I remember that 'conversation'. Mom hit the roof. She and I and my grandmother were riding in our car and mom stopped and ordered my weeping grandmother OUT! Yep. That was horrible. I was eleven and my heart was breaking at the scene of my beloved, tiny little grandmother dejectedly getting out of our car and my mother screeching off. That little scene got Grandmother, Aunt C and me UNINVITED to the wedding.
So, yeah, there are some things that I bet weigh on mom's mind...and heart, apparently.
And did I mention that mom is horribly afraid of death? And I bet she figures out a way to cheat it!
So after the appointment we went to dinner and I figured I would finally tell her.
"This year Christmas is going to be a little different" I started.
And I proceeded to tell her my plans.
The great thing about mom is that she doesn't hold anything back. You know exactly WHEN you've stepped in it.
She sat across from me smirking and slowly shaking her head. The 'condescending shake' is what my son likes to call it.
I explained that I would be home in the evening on Christmas Day and we could do dinner then. Not a good idea - too late.
'Well, maybe I'll take a trip somewhere too'
UGH this is not a pleasure trip...not a vacation.
'Well I have NO desire to relive that day' And so on and so on the recriminations continued.
Not surprised. Why did I hold out any hope that she would understand...or empathize...or just support me in this decision?
Nope, it was all about her. Just like it always has been.
Then sitting there at dinner she did precede to relive the day. How my grandmother and Aunt C were expected at our apartment for Christmas dinner and how she was preparing and my dad was MIA. She just figured that he was out on a tear. At 11:00 a.m. the county cop called and very matter of factly asked if she owned a '63 Falcon and if (NAME) was her husband and that he was dead. Killed in a head on collision in the wee hours of Christmas day. How the Times-Herald reported that she too had been killed in the accident because her shoes, which were in the car, were strewn about at the scene of the accident. How wonderful her place of employment was to her (the only positive thing she had to say in the whole dissertation). How my Aunt C and her son, my cousin N - my mother's nephew who she so selfishly will no longer associate with - went to the morgue and identified my father. NO ONE SHOULD HAVE TO GO TO THE MORGUE ON CHRISTMAS DAY. Cousin N was 24 years old - the age of my daughter. I cannot imagine. How she didn't remember much about the first few days except that my father was given a military burial - gun salute and Taps. And how my father's family left right from the funeral to drive 12 hours back to their home state. She faulted them for this but the truth of the matter was they all probably had hourly jobs and in their meager existence time was money.
All about how she felt.
No mention of me.
Of course not.
And she wonders why on earth I want to go there.
I want to pay my respects to my father, something that I have never been encouraged nor allowed to do. If I cry at his grave site-- I'm overdue. I want to face my grief. I want to continue my journey in reconciling that grief. I want to continue to progress and love and feel and have emotions.
Basically I don't want to be my mother.
Saturday, November 1, 2014
All Saints Day
I am unapologetically Episcopalian and today we celebrate All Saints Day - the day of remembering the dead. Beautiful music, beautiful message.
Actually this is a follow up to my post '50' of a couple of days ago.
I'm not 'sliding' anymore. A day or so ago another wave of calm and presence washed over me. I was sunny and happy. Even texted my special friend to pass along such good vibes.
Maybe it was because it was payday and for about 10 days I will actually have cash.
No, seriously, little by little I'm emerging. A new person of sorts. Wow, this hard fought freedom is really doing something for me.
I'm moving forward.
My favorite mantra "Life is for the Living" Noun and verb.
What better way to honor those who have gone ahead but than to strive to live a full and honorable and authentic life.
As they say "This is not a dress rehearsal!"
So out of the the darkness of my feelings, my being, I peek. All clear? I think I shall walk on the light side as much as I can. My father lived his entire life within 37 years. I can see him 37 and raise him...oh?...maybe 40 or 50 more!
Carpe diem!
Actually this is a follow up to my post '50' of a couple of days ago.
I'm not 'sliding' anymore. A day or so ago another wave of calm and presence washed over me. I was sunny and happy. Even texted my special friend to pass along such good vibes.
Maybe it was because it was payday and for about 10 days I will actually have cash.
No, seriously, little by little I'm emerging. A new person of sorts. Wow, this hard fought freedom is really doing something for me.
I'm moving forward.
My favorite mantra "Life is for the Living" Noun and verb.
What better way to honor those who have gone ahead but than to strive to live a full and honorable and authentic life.
As they say "This is not a dress rehearsal!"
So out of the the darkness of my feelings, my being, I peek. All clear? I think I shall walk on the light side as much as I can. My father lived his entire life within 37 years. I can see him 37 and raise him...oh?...maybe 40 or 50 more!
Carpe diem!
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