It's been an extremely busy week, but I always like that because I am running around and talking to people instead of stuck inside my cubicle counting each minute tick by. MJC's dad was in town Monday night for dinner and a cousin was in town for Tuesday dinner so I did not have a ton of time to think about what to get him.
Just before dinner, I got a phone call from a family member who told me about an auntie who had said some nasty things about me- specifically related to my "out of control emotions". Lovely.
It's really disappointing to hear that someone who supports you to your face (or at least over the phone) says nasty things as soon as you turn your back. I can't tell you how many conversations we had where I feel almost like she baited me to talk about difficult experiences. In the moment, I felt like I was speaking with a trusted family member. I felt like she wanted to help and listen. I was candid with both my opinions and emotions. She never told me she thought I was out of control. She was supportive and kind.
In retrospect, I wonder if with each of those conversations where I hung up feeling like someone really understood me, she hung up and called my cousin's wife or my brother's wife, or any number of other people in our family to spill all of my feelings I trusted her with into the universe.
I realize this is out of my control. I am not angry because I am not surprised. I am not embarrassed, because I don't think my emotions are out of control. In fact, I feel proud of my honesty and self-reflection and my ability to share tough emotions with *trusted* family members instead of pushing them deep inside and turning into a venomous hag.
I feel sorry for her more than anything. I also feel naive for not realizing that all of her judgements on family members did not likely exclude me.
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I was thinking last night about Aunt Mary as I was falling asleep. Dad told me she's stopped eating the last few days and apparently her death is imminent. It seems she's lost her will to continue. It's fascinating to me that at the end of a person's life they can at some point refuse their most basic needs to bring themselves closer to the end.Most of us eat when we are hungry and for a host of other reasons - when we are bored, when we are sad, when we want to celebrate, when we see an appetizing commercial or when we've had a healthy glass of wine and we forget our resistance. It is difficult for me to go more than a few hours without snacking on something. I don't think I could go one whole day without eating if I tried.
But somehow, when we have enough - enough with life - enough with fighting, we just stop. I have heard about this happening before with people who are sick and old couples who lose one half. Even animals know when to stop taking basic care of themselves. I wonder how many days it would take before your body would shut down without food.
In a strange way, it makes me happy that Aunt Mary is empowered with this control. I don't think it is likely a conscious decision but her body working for her - just like it always has.
I will miss her terribly but I know she is ready to go and see her sisters.
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This frustrating and morbid news comes on a very happy day. As I mentioned above, it's my father's birthday today.I sent him an email last night to celebrate the day. I was torn on what to get quite possibly the hardest man to shop for (and we all know I have a talent for shopping - if you could call it that). Then MJC suggested I donate to Barack Obama in dad's name. It was a very clever idea indeed.
Dad is a staunch conservative. A lot of people think he is a classic Republican, but he isn't. He is registered Independent and although to call him sensitive would be a stretch, he is a thoughtful person and seems to make his political decisions from a rational place. What I like about him is that he is always open-minded to hear a well-articulated opinion even if it is very different from his own. Because of that, he has as many great friendships with the most left of center people as he does the Rush Limbaugh listeners of the world. None-the-less, when the cancer on his arm was removed 10 years ago and he was left with a 6 inch scar, his joke was that he'd had his last ounce of Liberalism removed.
So last night, I emailed dad in big scrolly orange and pink font and wished him a happy birthday and then jumped down several lines so we would have to scroll down to see his gift. Then I told him a $50 donation had been made in his name to Barack. A few hours later, I was having dinner with a cousin and MJC and dad called me back. He'd received my email and thanked me for it and then let me know he'd made a $1,000 contribution to John McCain in my name. He advised me that I would be receiving mail from his campaign in perpetuity. Ugh. Well played dad.
Dad obviously has a much larger budget for joking gifts.
This is one of the hundreds of reasons I love him. My dad has an extremely dry sense of humor and he loves a good joke.
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