Thursday, February 24, 2011

Awash in a grey sea of unfamiliarity and uncertainty...

It was important to me that Dennis and I be respected, and even, I think, beloved at this point in our lives...I'm not a lovable person, and I suppose I will just have to accept that, regardless of how much it hurts---and I wonder why it does, so much? But I can't accept that for my husband, to whom my children owe not only filial respect, but special honor because he has made so many sacrifices. (I want to note at this point that while I'm speaking in general from an effort to maintain at least a modicum of civility, it is important to note that the problem is not necessarily systemic within our family and in no case whatever is CROCKETT an offender. How's that? Is that okay? Are we all clear on that?)

It's not important, really, except that it contributes to and makes more desolate the sea of uncertainty in which we are now drifting. I am okay with being in pain. I mean that in all sincerity. They biggest downside is that, well, I can't do the tasks I should be doing. My small home is so cluttered. My Christmas decorations aren't even put up yet---they are taken down---just not put up. Some people wonder why I don't have a bigger house. It's because I spent the money on other things. Most of my kids could probably tell you what those things are. Dennis feels badly, even after starting his PD...he's quite depressed and frankly has given up doing even the most obvious things around the house...I don't think anyone but me has taken a dish to the kitchen for 6 months...Seguin is very sick---has had lupus since she was quite young and I think maybe that's why parts of her brain don't work while others are over-developed...Anyway, she's doing well to drive all the way to Dallas every day and get to school, where she's on her feet cooking. No, she can't have her own apartment---she does not need to be alone for long periods of time---but thank you so much for asking.

When Mother was dying, my aunts and uncles kept urging me to put her in a nursing home where they "would take really good care of her all the time!" Yeah--nursing homes are famous for that. In truth, they were scared to death that I might ask them to Mother-sit sometime. You should have heard the bullshit they were spouting at the funeral about how she supported them all for 10 years and they owed everything to her!

I am not afraid, I'm just so sad.

I wish I'd known my Daddy's parents better. And I wish I had had the presence of mind to nurture my Mother's mother, regardless of her "unfortunate disposition". She walked on her ankle bone, her feet were so twisted and crippled...she was too proud to sit in a chair...I thought I would try to be "not proud" and that that would make a difference, but I think not...Didn't want the kids to have to put up with the same things Dennis and I did when we were first married...ha ha...But Crockett, I think, does laugh with me when I try to laugh at myself, and I like to see him laugh.

I can rarely leave this house. I don't mind. I want people to feel welcome. I'm so sorry that not everyone can see past our limitations. I'm grieved that some of them will never be comfortable here. This thirty acres is my children's home. It has been a continuing source of sorrow for me that they've never loved it. Except Stuart. Stuart loves it and treats it as her own. Thank you, Stuart. And Thank you, Rachel, for my little tree...You planted it so well that it is still alive.

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