mydarlingcurse.com

i didn’t feel it coming on the way i usually do, but i can’t say i was surprised.

so, after a year of not dealing with it, i got the big P. and i feel like i’ve been dumped from the “new mom” category into the “normal woman” category. it’s nice.

also, on the legal side of things…hubbin and i “got our affairs” in order the other day by signing the final copies of our Wills, etc. and something weird came up that i reacted very strongly to.

in our Wills, there is a catch-all clause, which basically says if something very, very, horrible happens and the four of us are together and no one survives, our estate is then given in equal shares to our remaining heirs and heirs-in-law. half to my side, half to his basically. and i thought if the plane goes down while we are all on it going to AZ my Dad and that shitbag other son of his would get half of what i got from my Mom and half of what hubbin and i have built together.

i got two words….FUCK NO!

i was so adverse to the idea that i made the lawyer change both Wills to say that my half goes to my Aunt Iowa, because i feel deep down in my heart that that’s what my Mom would want. and i trust Aunt Iowa to distribute things evenly amoung my remaining nieces and nephew.

but it was unnerving having that strong of a reaction. the things with my dad are slowly working themselves out because i’ve made a huge effort to approach it as a “long con”. just plant little ideas until he gets the big idea and then it’ll be like he thought of it all himself in the first place. isn’t the best approach with all men though?

these issues with my Dad, to big and hurtful to mention here, are messing me up today.

i’m trying to write him a letter and i get two sentences down and start weeping. then i walk away from it, and come back only to gouge the wound even more and cry.

my chest hurts.

he’s off in AZ with annie oakley this week, doing his thing. which is fine. i’m working myself up so much over this thing, it’s probably better that he’s not within striking distance.

i stole that post title from the Loverly SIL because i’m too brain dead to come up with anything.

i’m little concerned with all the celeb deaths..sydney pollack, harvey korman, cyd charisse, bo diddley, tim russert and now george carlin. just seems weird, like too much at once, no?

we went to hubbin’s family reunion on sunday, and while it was good to see relatives from out of town, it stirred up some same-ole-same-ole family bullshit that i don’t discuss here. thankfully the whole thing makes me even more determined to be a better parent.

still some what lonely and sad. no family (on my side) and few friends. boo is getting her little bitch on, now using phrases like “Don’t TALK to me like that!” “I want my Daddy!” “NO! I WILL DO IT! I SAID I WILL DO IT!” she terrifies me at times and i want to cry.

i rarely discuss body issues here, but my softness and curviness are starting to weigh on me (pardon the pun).

and i HATE that i can’t do anything longer than five minutes without rushing to do something Mom.

a few things about this past weekend, in no particular order…

- the death of Tim Russert - not only has this primary season changed history, not having Tim Russert cover the election is heartbreaking.

- we went to the cabin with my Dad and Annie Oakley…it was not fun.

- packing up shit for two kids and two adults requires the patience of a saint and a magic pill.

- upon arrival at the cabin, dealing with two squirrelly kids, schelpping all our crap i notice that the room we are to stay in is not prepared for our arrival.

- i also notice that Annie Oakley has taken up residence with my Dad, in my parents’ room, on my Mom’s side of the bed.

- i spend the weekend sulking, nursing, forcing smiles for my children and drinking as much as i can without appearing like i have a “problem”.

- coming home was the second best part of the weekend.

- the best part, and yes, i obviously saved the best for last, was seeing a picture of my Dad and boo. she got her first fishing pole for our trip to the cabin and natch Papa had to explain it to her and show her how to use it. my dad is an avid fisherman. hubbin got a great snap of the two of them with the pole and it’s priceless. didn’t make up for all the other shit that went on, but it’s a nice memory for him.

- i have come to the realization that my dad is not who i think he is. and that my darlings is troubling me greatly.

it’s not news how much i miss my Mom. she died about 16 months ago and i’m still dealing with it and coping with the loss. what makes that all worse is my Dad.

i don’t operate under the illusion that my parents had an ideal marriage. they always knew something was wrong and for whatever reason, just stuck it out. the events of this weekend were devastating if not well timed. a break-down (pardon the pun)…

Friday

on friday, i took the bebe’s over to my Dad’s. he and annie oakley were heading up to the cabin for a week, so i thought i’d force my adorable children on them. things went great until ten minutes before we leave. now, after a glass of wine annie oakley gets a little loose. and this can be fun and charming, or it can change my life forever. ten minutes before we leave she says “your dad and i have discussing living together” then my dad says “yeah, and if i die, annie would get to live in the house for three years before its sold and then once its sold, the proceeds go to the Foundation” (my parents started a charitable foundation ten years ago - it’s my dad’s vanity project really).

what the fuck?

are you kidding me?

really?

i mean really?

that house is a much of my mother’s now than it ever was. and to have him, just decree that it will be sold and the proceeds given to the foundation, well that makes my blood boil so hot that i’m seeing red. and i’m not being a mercenary here. i don’t care if he sells the house, i don’t care if i get dime one from it, or from him. but i absolutely cannot….i don’t know. it was the LAST thing my mom wanted. the LAST thing she wants done to ANY of her things or the things they owned jointly was to have it go to the fucking Foundation.

she is spinning in her grave right now and i’m just feeling cosmic static all over the place.

the shitty thing is, is that, my Dad doesn’t give a fuck about what i think or feel about all of this. my opinion or my mom’s wishes, he could care less. and THAT my darlings is what is going to cause me to further distance myself from my Dad.

but here is now what i have to do. i have to look at my Mom’s will again and that just confirms the fact that she’s dead and gone. i have to get advice from a lawyer, i have to address this with my Dad and stick to my guns. i have to come to grips with the fact that, regardless of wether or not my parents loved each other, my Dad has no respect for my Mom. or me.

i don’t want to bore you with details, but that last couple of days have been rough. i’ve been struggling with comfort, as most 36 week pregnant women do. but i’ve also been struggling with matters at home too. stuff with hubbin and family.

my dad and annie oakely left for Arizona yesterday and i’m wildly jealous. i’d love to head down there, warm up and dry out. but then last night i had major pregnancy pains and i panicked. with them gone, i have no one, NO ONE to call and help out.
if something had happened last night, we’d of had to pack boo up and take her with. and god forbid if i had gone into labor, hubbin would have had to take care of her rather than me. now, i wouldn’t have it any other way, but you can see why this isn’t the most desirable of situations.

hubbin’s family is really tied up with baby A. and i get that. baby A is home now and doing great, but needs constant care. constant. and they are an hour away. the lovely SIL and her boy are on a cruise, so we can’t call them. and CK and his wife, well, yeah, but boo doesn’t really know them and i’d hate to impose on such short notice for who knows how long. they both work too, so if days off were needed….it would just be a lot for them to deal with.

so i panicked and that made it all worse. but i didn’t go into labor. and i KNEW i wouldn’t but it was just that moment of “oh shit, this is going to happen eventually.” and we are sooo not prepared. sooooo not prepared.

over the weekend i got a call from my parents’ friendly neighbour Bon-Bon. Bon-Bon was one of my Mom’s caregivers and because she only lives like six doors down, she is kind enough to continue to keep an eye on my Dad. Bon-Bon and i have been through similar experiences. her dad died about a year after my mom died, and then her brother died shortly after. she called to tell me that her other brother died suddenly - like alone in his garage apparently of a heart-attack. very similar to my Aunt Jan who died alone in her bedroom two days before christmas from a duodenal ulcer.

then she told me that my dad (who is in Canada ice-fishing this weekend) had a glass guy coming and if he called, could i possibly come over and take care of it, since she didn’t know where or how she’d be. naturally i said i would do whatever i could and what did my dad need a glass guy for?

“Oh, someone tried to break in the other day.”

WHAT?!

my dad never said a THING about it.

Bon-Bon told me that apparently they tried breaking the glass at the backdoor. HOLY CRAP!

i talked to my Dad tonight and guess what? HE WAS HOME WHEN THIS ALL WENT DOWN! never told me about. his version of events is, he was downstairs on the computer and Annie Oakley came over and said “There’s glass everywhere.”

now here is the thing, my Dad’s blind. he has a genetic disease, retinitis pigmentosa, and has been totally blind since the early 90’s. and it’s true what they say, if you lose one sense, all other senses become heightened. my Dad’s hearing is fucking unbelievable. this didn’t serve me well as a bratty teen or know-it-all twentysomething, since he could hear when i was giving him the finger.

so it’s really hard to believe that even though he was downstairs on the computer that he didn’t hear breaking glass. he even marvels at the unlikelihood of him not hearing anything. but he swears he had no idea.

when i talked to him tonight and told him about Bon-Bon and her brother, i asked if the class was fixed and he said, yeah, it was taken care of before he left town. i told him how disappointed i was that he didn’t tell, since, if they tables were turned and someone tried to break-in while i was home, he’d probably want to know. i don’t want him to feel like he’s a simple, old man, but COME ON! i feel like i have a right to know if someone tried to break-in!

he reassured me that he’s locking and double checking all the doors now and that he’s locking doors even when he’s home. he’s going to start using the alarm more and blah blah blah. but still, he’s my dad. and i worry.

i was surprised to find out yesterday just how much personal energy it takes to accept and tolerate things and situations in my life. i am constantly working on trying to come to peace with several situations that are completely beyond my control, but that some how ooze into my life.

granted, i can no longer express with any level of comfort what is going on with half of it, at least not here (super secret blagh where are you?). but it still has a negative effect on a part of my life, and people very close and extremely important to me. i am fiercely protective of those i care about and love, and not just my little boo and the pending bunny.

and honestly, i have enough shit to deal with. i’m having a baby. and i somehow need to figure out how i’m going to do that with a two year old, by myself. i don’t have family i can lean on, i don’t have friends that come to my rescue. i do have hubbin, but part of all of this is him dealing with some of his own external factors. and it kills me to see him struggle with it every damn day.
so i use what little energy i have tolerating that situation and lending whatever support i can.

i just have such a low opinion of people who refuse to help themselves. i get that it’s not that easy. believe me i know. but while i was spending four years bitching about not having a family we were listing with an adoption agency and seeing a reproductive specialist. i never once though “well, it’s out of my hands”. fuck that. this is MY life, I am in control. so to see people, who i KNOW know better, just allow themselves to be victimized by their own doing…christ….it just makes me sick.

more later…

yesterday was my brother’s birthday. he’d have been 47.

when i think back to where i was a year ago, chances are probably in a car, somewhere between the twin cities and rochester. chances are i’d have been wiping tears from my cheeks. i remember being really worried about my dad, and how he was coping. i remember thing my brother’s mom is a big bowl of crazy and that it was so sad that my dad was going through all of this with her, without my mother’s help.

the only way i felt that i could help was to tell my brother, in our private last moments, that things would be ok. that death was nothing to fear. i’d make sure the kids were looked after and taken care of and that i’d always be a part of their lives. i told him there was a place waiting for him - without pain and i gave him ever ounce of courage i had so he’d let go of this and get to that place.

i broke down at his bedside. i tried so hard to draw down my mom and my aunt jan from heaven, a place of compassion and mercy - desperate to end his pain - please take him, take him now, make it quick, make it soon. but he wasn’t ready. he lasted for hours after that.

my poor sister-in-law, slootie. she can’t stand my brothers’ mom, or that other son of my dad’s - who was there. she couldn’t be in the same room with them. she said she didn’t understand the whole “bedside vigil”, she thought my brother wouldn’t have wanted people to watch him die. she was down the hall in the lounge, i brought her blankets and a pillow. and i told her what the last few hours were going to be like.

when someone dies in a hospital, time doesn’t stop. your heart breaks in half and you find yourself amazed at your own ability to walk, but the hospital machine keeps a-runnin’. i told slootie how unemotional the process is - how sympathetic the staff will be, but the big thing is all the business. do you want an autopsy done? where would you like the body sent? they give you something to sign after they pronounce your loved one dead. you have to sign it. you have to collect all of your things from the room and vacate it. you bring all these things to your car and you leave a corpse behind. same person, same bed, same room, but a corpse.

my brother celebrated his final birthday at the hospital. four days later he died.

personally, i don’t dwell on these things, but i know that some people do. i talked to slootie yesterday and they were doing to maybe go to Bro’s fave restaurant and she said that the kids wanted to bake him a cake - angel food. she’s thinking about taking them to his grave on tuesday. they haven’t seen the headstone i picked out for him.

my dad spent the day out on the ice fishing with buddies. old man therapy. i checked in on him, and told him i loved him. we didn’t talk too much about it. it sounded like he was handling it better than my mom’s one year anniversary.

i just did what i said i would do, looked after things.