This will be a quick login before I have to get the girls ready for school tomorrow. I'm sitting here bloated after a really nice dinner at Maggiano's (my new idea this morning) and I am FULL. UGH!
Well, it's official: D9 is now D10. She's had an excellent day and a nice dinner and is now watching Daddy Daycare with D6 (which is why I have a few minutes to myself).
Mr. Wonderful was in a very chatty mood today and fairly happy (all things considered). We got to the restaurant and got our beverages and he started filling me in...
He said he was a little angry with his dad and very annoyed. His dad treated him like a 6-year old after they had their convo--example: his cousin showed up Wednesday night and his dad decided at 8 pm that it was time for bed. While Mr. W. and his cousin were chatting his dad turned out the lights and told cousin it was time to go and MW to go to bed.
He hadn't seen his cousin in a year and a half, so he was feeling a bit perturbed. Mr. W. commented, "Why couldn't dad just announce he was heading to bed and ask me to turn everything off?"
Like I would know? I just nodded.
He started to get a little worked up and told me that his dad showed him some letters his mom wrote before she went blind and asked Mr. W. if he should send them?
Mr. W. said one of them was to his SIL (and perhaps another to me?) and said they were the meanest, most spiteful letters he's read from her to this day and got very mad at his dad... Evidently, he replied, "Dad, you know full well how these letters would be received. You KNOW the answer to that question and my opinion is that you burn them immediately, as they serve no purpose."
His dad commented, "Well, your mom needed to say some things to them."
Mr. W. got madder and said, "Dad, I know you're grieving and trying to feel supportive of mom, but you and I both know what she wrote is wrong. Do we have to end things so that people will always remember her being this way?"
I guess his dad agreed to some degree, because he said that his dad threw them away.
I sat there quietly and commented, "You know what the readings and homily at mass were about today? Forgiving others, particularly those who you dislike or hate. It was hard for me not to cry."
He just smiled.
I went on, "Mr. W., it's a good thing that Lent is here because I have a lot of work to do in this area. Forgiving your parents is probably going to require a lot more effort and time than I think."
He nodded and said he understood.
D10 was a little upset to hear about the letters, and I could tell she was trying to think of something nice to say. Mr. W. spoke first:
"And I think Dad is going to move anyway. He's a hermit and wants to be a hermit. The only reason they moved to Bozeman was because Mom wanted to be closer to B/SIL."
I commented, "Well, after he poisoned the neighbor's dogs I'm sure they're not going to miss him either."
He choked on his wine and said, "I bet not."
Damn it, you guys... I don't know if he's going to come through this or not. He does seem to be at a loss right now. I can tell that he was sad about leaving us to head back to the apartment.
Oddly enough, we were walking out of the restaurant and D10 was trying to pronounce the name of a restaurant across the street. It rhymes with a very memorable name from our past--a real estate agent in CA who ran over our mailbox and then accused us of moving it! Then he made some lame excuse for running it over, like "I had to go home and clean my bathroom, and I was in a hurry."
So Mr. W. started laughing and told D10, "Ask your mom the story about "Basil the Asil"... it's really funny. I told her and he started laughing harder. He commented aloud, "I remembered that Basil had some lame excuse for running it over, but didn't realize it was THAT lame. Mom and I have a lot of funny stories we could share."
True. So what does this mean in the grand scheme of things?
Time to check on the girls. Talk to ya'll tomorrow!
Bets
"There are only 2 ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle."
