Number 8: I'd just like to think he's thinking of me and would call to check in on me (wishful thinking, I know).
He may be thinking of you and telling himself a reason NOT to call on this holiday. Like that he's doing you a favor to get you used to the future of your singleness, not wanting to upset him or you, or whatever. DETACH. You'll never know!
What would I do during this time of painful separation from my H if I did not have the unintentional comic relief from my father??
My father is hilarious. However, it is important to note that he does not mean to be funny. He is also not attempting in any way to be funny. Thank goodness he is, though. I might not make it otherwise.
My father called me last night to check in about our Easter lunch plans at my grandmother's house. I asked him how he felt about my saying that H was with his grandmother's house. He said, "Ain't it terrible to tell such a story?" Then he said, "Yeah, I like that one. That sounds good." Evidently it doesn't bother him too much to tell such a story!
He starts in then on, "He's not coming? You mean to tell me he's not coming to Easter dinner?" [Please also imagine the volume of his voice increasing here.] I told him that I did not tell H or invite him, but in keeping with the typical interactions with my father, he does not hear this. "I can't believe he's just not gonna come." I try again to explain that H does not know about the lunch, but he just talks over me until I decide to be quiet.
My father continues his building outrage by saying, "Has he even brought you an Easter present?" I respond that I have not received an Easter gift from H but also that I do not expect one. Just as a side note, I have NEVER received elaborate gifts from H for Easter, so I don't know why I would this year. This lack of gift-giving really gets him going, though. He continues, "You mean to tell me that he didn't send you any flowers for Easter? He ain't even made you an Easter basket? Nothing?? That's terrible. It just ain't right." Again, as a side note, H has NEVER sent me flowers for Easter or made me an Easter basket. We've done small gifts, but never anything like my father has just described.
And then, as if on cue, the old, familiar refrain starts. "Just when is he planning on coming home? Huh? HUH?? How long is he gonna stay away? Have you talked to his mother to find out what's wrong with him? I bet you haven't, have you? Why not? Huh? What is he so sad about? When is he coming back? Do you think he'll ever come back? Do you? Why don't you know?"
Of course, he'd be remiss if he didn't include my personal favorites: "Throw all his $h!+ in the yard and tell him to come get it. Every bit of it. Give him two hours notice to get a U-Haul. Throw it all out there. Watch the weather forecast for when it's gonna rain, and put it out there then. Tell him he doesn't have much time before the rain starts, so he better hurry. But don't throw his Bowflex out there. I'll take that. Heh heh heh. I want that." [Another important note: my 60-year-old pot-bellied father is not an athlete. I don't know that he's ever touched a Bowflex. His primary concerns have always been counting every nickel he has and making sure he has a steady supply of rare red meat, brown liquor (Kentucky or Tennessee brands preferred), and things to complain and/or raise his voice about (e.g., taxes, banks, the weather, how hard I am on cars, how I think money grows on trees, his lunatic brother, my grandmother's wacky boyfriend, or his employees' inability to match his fervor for repairing diesel engines).]
He did not include the line about changing the locks, which was slightly disappointing. I'm sure I'll hear it soon, though, so I'm not worried.
This day with my family promises to be full of comedic possibilities. I also may consider jumping out a window after spending time in the same room as lunatic uncle and grandmother's boyfriend. They don't know it, but they're actually competing to see who is the more offensive and culturally insensitive. It's very likely that the volume of this beloved gathering will be unbearable. Not only does my father get louder and listen to no one's responses to his questions, but lunatic uncle and grandmother's boyfriend are also unnaturally loud. I don't own a pair of earplugs, but I will take my iPod with me. I also may be "inspired" to go outside for long stretches of time and admire the foliage.
I'm going to pray for strength. I'm going to need it.
LOL! The bowflex, the U-haul, the bourbon! Not even a basket! I think we live in the same region of the country.
My mother has announced her intention not to send H a birthday card this year because he did not acknowledge her Christmas card. She also thinks I deserve a lot of wine and roses type courting that I NEVER got and was never H's style. What's worse is that any day now, I'm going to wake up and agree with BOTH our parents.
Have a good day and don't jump out that window! Your H sounds lucky he's getting out of this one.
So my H is not the only one who frequently lounges about with eyes focused on iPhone for unbelievably long stretches of time???
It's so hard to think about his wallowing! What you wrote here is interesting: "some of the online materials about depression say occasionally try to draw them out to do positive stuff. Kind of hard to do when you are the target of many of life's troubles though. I go back and forth between the two and try to detach, stay busy, do a lot of positive stuff for me." I AM the source of so much misery, it seems, but I've also seen him wallow when I wasn't the source of it. Oh, if only he could get to the point of self-realization about his depression!!
It absolutely is the perfect spring day. I got up, made chocolate chip muffins and a pot of coffee, and gave Boxer dog his Easter treat--a new bone that brought out feelings of both pride and greed in him. He did his straight-legged Boxer prance that makes me laugh every time he does it. I'm going to wear a cute new outfit today and enjoy myself. Today would be a great day to enjoy a book outside (after I endure a family gathering, of course).
Would you send me a link to the alt? I want to make sure I go to the right place, and I'm not as familiar with navigation as I should be. [Insert ashamed expression here.]
Number 8: I'd just like to think he's thinking of me and would call to check in on me (wishful thinking, I know).
He may be thinking of you and telling himself a reason NOT to call on this holiday. Like that he's doing you a favor to get you used to the future of your singleness, not wanting to upset him or you, or whatever. DETACH. You'll never know!
He has done this before--told himself reasons for NOT getting in touch on a holiday or important day. For instance, he did this on the anniversary of my mother's passing. I was stunned that I did not hear from him on that day. We talked the next day (he called me), and I brought up that I had been to dinner the night before with friends to memorialize the day. He said that he had thought of me that day but knew he shouldn't call. I asked why that was. He said that he figured he was the last person I wanted to hear from or talk to on that day. I told him that that wasn't true, but I did NOT tell him that he was the ONLY person I had wanted to hear from that day. My father didn't remember, my uncle (mother's brother) didn't remember, but I had counted on H to remember. I understand why he didn't get in touch, but I wish he would stop trying to read my mind or predict what I want or don't want.
Also, since I read your post, I HAVE heard from H. He sent a text a little while ago that said this: "Happy spring fertility festival"
This is very typical of how we've interacted over our years together. We've always done silly holiday wishes, among other things.
I waited about 20 minutes after I received the text before I responded with this: "Benevolent vernal wishes as the sun crosses the celestial equator to you as well. Puppy has celebrated the right ascension by enjoying a bone."
I may or may not hear from him any more today, but I'm happy to hear from him. I'm also happy that I heard from him in the morning hours instead of right before bedtime.
rr22, if any of this sounded familiar to you (U-Haul, bourbon, and an Easter basket), then it is VERY likely that we're close geographically. They don't get much more southern than my father. Perhaps I should also mention that my father has a penchant for Goo-Goo Clusters, Pabst Blue Ribbon beer (on the hottest of summer days, of course), and Durango boots. It's also very typical of my father to dig up part of his back yard this time of year to plant some tomato plants and a few rows of green beans, squash, and potatoes.
I probably don't even have to include that later in the summer I get this phone call: "You'd better get over here! It's time to pick beans. Hurry up! How long before you get here? These beans ain't gonna pick themselves! You coming? Come on!" And then there's this phone call immediately after I return home from the back yard harvest: "Have you broken those beans yet? You'd better hurry and get them blanched and frozen. You gonna can any of them? Why not? Can't find your pressure cooker? You can? If you know where it is, then get it out and get to work! Do you need any jars? What do you mean 'You don't know'? You'll need to come back in a couple days and get some more of these beans. Oh, yes, you will!" How was it that I only recently got an ulcer? Maybe I have just been desensitized over the years to the stress my father puts on me with his constant yammering.
It's funny that my father thinks my H should do these things because these are also things that my father would NEVER DO!! I wish that he would stop putting these ideas in my head. I'm going to do like you--after time, start agreeing with your mom and my father!!
Truth be told, my H is extremely lucky to get out of this one. These family things are always funny afterward, but I'm rarely amused when I'm in the thick of it.
Yes, yes on the backyard crops and Goo-Goo clusters and pressure cooker. Ha. Now I've narrowed you down to one of three states. Maybe four. Maybe five, depending.
Family is a wonderful thing. I just have to keep repeating it to myself.
I've just returned from another excruciating yet unintentionally hilarious family holiday dinner.
Here are the best (worst?) parts of my family gathering:
*We were to be at my grandmother's house for lunch at 1:00. Lunatic uncle (who still lives at home at age 41) slept in until 2:00. He joined us at the table after an extremely noisy get-up routine and well-advertised shower. *Grandmother's boyfriend did not notice for nearly an hour that H wasn't there. *Both grandmother and her boyfriend need hearing aids. One was talking about my painting my den and the other one asked, "Why are you talking about the car?" Neither realized that the other had no clue about what was being discussed. *Grandmother noticed my sushi Band-Aids on my thumbs and asked me what I did to myself. I told her that I wore blisters mowing the lawn on Friday. She told me that I did NOT do it mowing the lawn. First--why would I lie? Second--it's not unheard of to get blisters from doing yard work. Third--why did we need to argue about it? *Grandmother's boyfriend commented about my losing weight. He never means for his observations to be taken as compliments, FYI. *Lunatic uncle decided to call people to see what they're doing. He indicated that he has to catch up on "pissing off people" since he woke up so late. He added that the combination of Benadryl and Xanax really makes him sleep. [Note: he does not have a prescription for Xanax.] *Grandmother again commented on my thumb injuries and commented (not to me, of course, even though I'm sitting right there) that I must have really done a number on my hands somehow. [Reminder to the reader: I have one Band-Aid on each thumb covering a single blister. That's it.] *At this point, I went for my first "foliage" walk outside. Grandmother followed me to point out the names of flowers I may not know (though I didn't ask the names) and to question me about what has and hasn't bloomed in my yard so far. *I returned inside only to immediately go back out for my second "foliage" walk. My second walk was inspired by lunatic uncle's tirade about air filters or trailer hitches or something like that. I hid in the back yard for 10 minutes or so. *Dessert was served. Lunatic uncle commented that he had not been hanging out with too many high schoolers lately. He's 41, if you missed that before. *I announced my plans to leave. My grandmother vetoed that decision and told me to sit down. We sat side by side on a sofa for the next 30 minutes and looked at a mail-order flower/plant catalog. Twice. *Lunatic uncle told a riveting story about being stung by a wasp a decade or so ago. *Grandmother's boyfriend asked if I felt weak since I'd lost weight. I told him that I didn't. He didn't want me to walk away feeling good about losing weight, of course, so he made sure to tell me I look weak. My father jumped in and took care of that one before I had to. *Lunatic uncle, after spending 20 minutes in the restroom, came out to speculate as to which previous meals he had just said goodbye. [I have taken some liberties with the wording of his speculation. I did so because the true version was horrifying.] *Grandmother once again commented on my thumb injury. Determined to get the truth out of me, she asked once more how I had hurt my thumbs. I'm sure she was disappointed when my story hadn't changed. *I finally escaped when my father mercifully said it was time for all of us to get going. I need to call him and thank him later. My father was likely inspired to run for his life after a spirited debate between grandmother and boyfriend about how a teapot got broken, how it could be repaired, what temperature liquids could go in it if it was repaired, and who was really to blame for this tragedy.
As always during a holiday, I'm incredibly grateful to be back in my own home. It's so quiet and peaceful here. I'm relieved to be home. I'm also grateful for my parting gift--the mail-order flower/plant catalog I've already looked at twice.
