I can't believe that it has been 26 years since I last celebrated your birthday with you.
My girls are both older than you were when you left us....
But I still remember how it felt when you sat on my lap watching TV.
I miss you baby brother...
Happy 37th birthday. I hope you are eating candy corn with Grandpa George!
Today is my Grandpa George's birthday. He was 95 years old when he left us in 1992, so today he would have been 111.
He was my Grandmother's 3rd husband, but really the only Grandfather I had on that side of the family. And frankly, while I loved my Grandpa Miller... He and Grandma didn't really like little kids, particularly when they first became grandparents... and I was their first grandchild.
George on the other hand? Well, he never had any children of his own. But when he married Nanny, he got all of us. Six stepdaughters and 28 grandchildren. Now, some of my older cousins remember my "real" grandfather. He died when my Mom was 15. So George? He was my Grandpa.
He picked me up from ballet lessons. He came to my band and choir concerts, all my performances. My graduations... He was too frail for my wedding.
When my brother was sick.. he would watch us kids while Gram and Mom were at the hospital. When my Mom needed to put weight on my brother, George would go out and find him his favorite thing. Candy Corn. Even if it was in the middle of a blizzard, "Ceil," he would say to my Grandmother, "The boy needs candy corn".
When my brother died, George was stoic. He had lost so many people he loved. It hurt him, you could tell... but he was there for Gram.
All of this is the amazing legacy of this man who took us all on. But the thing is that none of it should have ever happened. See, George was a veteran of The Great War. He was a boy of 17 sent to France to fight. He escaped the Influenza Pandemic to be blown up in a trench and have his lungs nearly burned out with mustard gas. When they sent him home? It was to die. But he didn't die. He went on to live a long, productive life. He was largely deaf from the war, and suffered health effects the rest of his life. But he was important to me. And I will miss him forever.
Happy Birthday Grandpa! I love you!
Sorry, I couldn't resist.
This is irony as two of my best friends come from Kansas.... and we had tornadoes yesterday.
I am assuming that we are just adrift in a sea of pathetic fallacy. The horridness of the weather has ironically matched my mood, which can be described at best as craptastic. The best thing for anyone is to steer clear of me. I am probably the perfect storm emotionally.
And that is saying something as here in Chicagoland we are cleaning up after this freaking storm of high winds, five inches of torrential, hurricane force and quantity of rain and enough lightning to power six major cities and enough to knock out electricity to 250,000 individuals in the region.
And that includes my Jewel. Which is less of an issue but am somewhat concerned about how to get more than two pills from the prescription that I need to pick up for my high blood pressure. Cuz you know what? No electricity=no prescription. So don't schedule prescription refills during even a small crisis.
Oh, and in case I didn't mention it, I enjoyed my time in the bathroom with mes sweet filles, trying to explain what the purpose of the civil defense sirens. and trying to keep the pooch from freaking the fuck out while we kept sweating in a 6'x5' stagnant- aired room.
Yeah. good times.
Btw: When am I getting to see this new blog that Aunt Amy is considering???! I need more Norway. Faen! More about my favorite Texan Superhero Princesses!
And Aunty Noranne? A blog about my favorite New England Crimefighting Genuises would be fun too!
and I failed to mention that yesterday was the 25th anniversary of the death of my sweet brother... I miss you baby bro... and I yelled at your mother yesterday. Sorry. I am stressed. But then I am sure you know that.
The kind where you are totally on top of things and are productive and then find out it was all an illusion.
Yup. Fun.
I was nice and organized, I had ordered my mother her birthday gift (lovely and likely totally inadequate flowers). After I took my shower, I noticed on my email that I got a confirmation that they were delivered and that my mother had signed for them... So, I called and wished her happy birthday. We had a pleasant conversation and then she hung up so she could go shopping.
I continued on with my day, getting some work done, feeling pretty good. The kids got home had a snack, went to volleyball practice, came home, worked on homework that I checked while I cooked dinner and cleaned out the refrigerator and ran four loads of dishes, deboned two cooked chickens, made home made chicken broth out of the carcass of one of them and made stir fry out of left over steak. Then we ate dinner. After dinner, I ran another load of dishes while Imelda had a quick shower. MonAnge ran up to take her shower when the phone rang.
It was my mother.
Wanting to talk to the girls. I put the girls on with them and they wished her a happy birthday and had a couple of questions for her. I noticed MonAnge giving me a strange look and then passing the phone off to her sister. "Is Nana ok?" she asked me. Hmmm, well since I had spoken to her less than 30 seconds, I didn't and said so. So then MonAnge went to take her shower.
Imelda didn't speak much longer to Mom. She asked if Mom wanted to speak to me, she gave a weird look then hung up the phone. "Nana said she was tired and going to bed," she told me. "But." Imelda told me, "She just sounded sad".
So, being the good daughter that I am? (or perhaps the word is idiot), I called back. Dad ditched from the phone as quickly as he could adding, "I don't need to be part of this!" Uh, oh... this ain't gonna be good.
And so I sat their quietly while I got lectured accordingly:
My mother had three children. One is dead. One is my bitch sister Margo who hasn't spoken to any of us in four years so therefore did not call Mom on her birthday. and then there is me. (Frankly, every time I hear this description of my Mother's situation I read a subtext of "and all I am left with is YOU!" I have been told over and over again that is not what is meant and that I should get over it and/or stop personalizing it, but I think that I am making a reasonable interpretation of the situation...)
Mom has always depended on me and I have always come through. I am like my father that way. She loves my father... therefore she loves me. (Because love can be broken down into a syllogism)
My mother has three grandsons who don't even know her! She SHOULD get a call from her grand daughters with whom she spends so much time. "Yes, she should," I tell her. "I am sorry" (No holiday or birthday in the last two years is complete without an apology from me... so I just offer them randomly now) "Well, you ARE responsible," I was told, "You are the MOTHER!"
My mother gave birth to three children. One is dead. One is a bitch. My grandmother didn't call and I fucked up again. She will see me Saturday when I cook her a gourmet birthday dinner and coconut cake from scratch. In the meantime? You ruined my day (subtext again... but really? Is this REALLY a stretch for me to make?)
The time at the end of this phone call? 8:15 pm. IT WASN'T EVEN 9:00! Was I really making such a mess of everything?
FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK. I hate all people.
Oh, and then Fun Daddy called and I told him what happened and I got the standard irritated change in voice and then, "Anything else?" I hung up.
FUCK.
Fuck Gram for forgetting, FUCK MARGO, FUCK PJ for dying. FUCK Fun Daddy for not sticking up for me, not making me feel any better or even trying and for getting pissy with ME! Fuck les filles for not being more enthusiastic when they spoke to her and for being so busy that I couldn't call before 8pm.
I am so tired of feeling inadequate. I am tired of being expected to be everything to all the people in my life and for being judged as wanting.
Because I do want. To run away, but like an idiot, I stay to take whatever tomorrow's humiliation will bring.
God, I hope I am in the group in my family that dies before they are 60. I don't want to be everyone's asshole for another 60 years.
note: Did I mention that I also made home made doggie treats, went grocery shopping, paid the Amex bill and researched environmental disasters in the south suburbs? No? Well that was part of my inadequate mix of the day.
I was on the website for my new favorite tv show, Pushing Daisies... I love the surreal colors and quick and clever repartee between the characters...I love Swoosie Kurtz's eye patch and Jim Dale's narration (it makes me feel like I am listening to a Harry Potter book with my girlies...) oh, and I love the idea of a shop called the Pie Hole.
But, I really loved this...
You go to their site to plant a daisy.
It asks you who you want to talk to one more time.
Then it asks you what you would ask them.
If you click mine, you will see that I didn't have a question... I just want a hug and to whisper in his ear.....
Who would you want to see? And what would you ask them?
And asking for Kristen Chenoweth's boobs doesn't count!
Btw, if you haven't seen the show? Get your tush over to the website where you can watch the episodes for FREE!
Posts
All Comments
