Re: Up Here in Bathysphere (or wherever it is)
Posted: Fri May 20, 2022 3:35 pm
So I haven't been here an hour and SOMEBODY has already given me a shopping list, whilst she gets to schmooze with the parental unit.
That's OK, I had at least theoretical access to him for a few years before she met him. Although there were several times that he didn't know what state I lived in for a few years back there.
My alcoholic mom has been gone for a long time, so he and I (and ol' Wifehorn, of course) have become much, much closer.
I don't get along with any of my siblings, period. So the only thing I learn about any of them and their families are what my dad tells ol' Wifehorn. And today in the car on the way up here, I learned that of the 13 grandchildren (not including our 2), there are grandkids about whom he is eager to share the latest news, and there are grandkids who are possibly in some sort of grandparental purgatory, because he never, ever, ever mentions their names.
So ol' Wifehorn has fairly detailed information about some of our nieces and nephews, and no idea in the world what's going on with the others.
Family. I was lucky. My mom was a terrible mom, but she turned out to be a halfway decent grandmother, and we managed to become friends for the first and only time in our lives, a few years before she died from the alcoholism.
But people remembered when we were at war for all those years, and there was some SERIOUS fear that I would stand up in front of the church with 400 people at her funeral, that I might tell some of the stories ... and tell the truth.
'Course, when the time came, my dad had somebody else read his eulogy, because he was afraid he'd cry and wouldn't make it through.
My youngest sister, too. Somebody had to read hers.
So in the end, I was the ONLY member of her family who stood up at her funeral and said something good about her in front of those 400 people. And didn't even have to lie, I just skipped over the actual main story of her life. And whatever I said, my dad liked it so much he had me print it in a fancy font and frame it, and it's hanging on the wall in the room next to this one.
That's OK, I had at least theoretical access to him for a few years before she met him. Although there were several times that he didn't know what state I lived in for a few years back there.
My alcoholic mom has been gone for a long time, so he and I (and ol' Wifehorn, of course) have become much, much closer.
I don't get along with any of my siblings, period. So the only thing I learn about any of them and their families are what my dad tells ol' Wifehorn. And today in the car on the way up here, I learned that of the 13 grandchildren (not including our 2), there are grandkids about whom he is eager to share the latest news, and there are grandkids who are possibly in some sort of grandparental purgatory, because he never, ever, ever mentions their names.
So ol' Wifehorn has fairly detailed information about some of our nieces and nephews, and no idea in the world what's going on with the others.
Family. I was lucky. My mom was a terrible mom, but she turned out to be a halfway decent grandmother, and we managed to become friends for the first and only time in our lives, a few years before she died from the alcoholism.
But people remembered when we were at war for all those years, and there was some SERIOUS fear that I would stand up in front of the church with 400 people at her funeral, that I might tell some of the stories ... and tell the truth.
'Course, when the time came, my dad had somebody else read his eulogy, because he was afraid he'd cry and wouldn't make it through.
My youngest sister, too. Somebody had to read hers.
So in the end, I was the ONLY member of her family who stood up at her funeral and said something good about her in front of those 400 people. And didn't even have to lie, I just skipped over the actual main story of her life. And whatever I said, my dad liked it so much he had me print it in a fancy font and frame it, and it's hanging on the wall in the room next to this one.