Okay, so now what?

I’ve spent a lot of the last 4 or 5 months grieving the loss of my parents and grandma. No, they didn’t die, but they moved so far away that there is no possible way for me to visit them because of my travel anxieties.

I spent Thanksgiving, Christmas and my birthday with an upset feeling in my stomach. It was not fun. I realized that the reason for this was because, for the first time in 36 years, I did not see them at all during the holidays. D doesn’t see her family on those days anymore either, but at least they can come up easily or she can go there, and they always make sure to see each other during those times. Mine were supposed to come up for their first visit at Christmas, but never made it due to closing issues with their new house.

Why am I telling you all of this? Well, after all those holidays with that sinking feeling, and after they got in the car accident and I was so worried, they told me they were coming this week. And I felt nothing. No excitement. No anticipation. Nothing. It’s not that I didn’t want to see them, I just didn’t feel like I absolutely needed to. It’s weird. Maybe I am over their move? Maybe I only care to see them on holidays? I’ll never know.

They came over Tuesday night and took me out to dinner (D had a appointment so couldn’t go) and they paid for it too – which is soooooo unlike them! But the conversations were still same old, same old. They talked to D before I got home non-stop about my nephew J and how we should forgive him. He’s the one with Aspergers who they took in and raised, and then he continuously broke into their house and eventually stole my dad’s truck – which is the main reason they moved in the first place. I don’t get why I have been angry with him all this time for it, yet they are not! They were so deep in conversation when I got there that no one even came over to hug me or say hello.

The best part of the night was my gram. She is a hoot! She has Alzheimer’s and my mother said it’s like having a toddler. I didn’t know what she meant until we got to dinner and the following conversation happened:

Mom: Ma, what do you want to eat? Spaghetti and meatballs?

Gram : Spsketti!

Mom: So that’s what you want?

Gram: I want Spsketti! Spsketti! That’s how J used to say it.

Mom to the waitress: She’ll have the spaghetti and meatballs.

A few seconds pass and I am ordering my meal and then:

Gram: Wait, what did you order me?

Mom: Spaghetti and meatballs. Isn’t that what you want?

Gram: I’m not really a spaghetti type of gal. I want, what do you call those potatoes that are fried?

Me: French fries?

Gram: Yeah, I want french fries and uh, uh, a piece of meat.

Mom to waitress: Did you get that? She wants a piece of meat. Any particular kind of meat, Ma?

I was laughing so hard I couldn’t contain myself and the waitress had to cross out the original order and write the new one. (She ended up with a turkey dinner.) At the end of the meal she was saying how stuffed she was, and then when the waitress asked her if she wanted dessert, she said “I always have room for dessert!” Me too Gram, me too 😉

So she has lots of moments like the one above, but just prior to that we were talking about a Social Security paper and she said, “I don’t need that paper, I know my number.” Then she spouted off her Social Security number! This from the woman who doesn’t know where she lives!

She is too cute, and she had me in stitches the entire night. Mom and dad, on the other hand,  just went on and on about North Carolina and the weather there, and it’s so cheap there, and yadda, yadda, yadda. It’s like they were bragging or something. It was annoying, but what could I do? If they were trying to convince me to go there – not gonna happen. Nice try, though.

So, they are coming back over tonight for a few hours, and then they’ll be leaving to see my brother in a couple days. I’m not sad they are going. I’m not happy either. I just don’t feel much of anything. Am I blocking it out? Or am I over it?

 

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About thelesbiannextdoor

I am a 40 year old lesbian, living with her wife in a small town. I have a 22 year old step-son. Who knows, I could be your neighbor ;) (Unless you know for sure your neighbor is not a lesbian - then I'm probably not!)

Posted on January 31, 2013, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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