This One–Updated

Its late at night and i dont want to go to bed, although ive taken my nighttime meds, a handful of meds that usually knocks me out within about 20 minutes.  Then, im out till about 4 in the morning.  I want to see if i can blog myself out of this  one in the 15 minutes or so before my mind slows down and i get groggy.

“This One” is the current status if my fathers late in life enjoyment of an extremely irresponsible form of play that has gotten us all into troubke.  He enjoys make believe repartee that is a cross between what he gleans from 40s movies and PBS British sutcoms, conversational gambuts he has observed, and things he has put together in his own God forsaking mind, specifically, that is to say, things that at are obscene.  He does it to manage the flow of things,  And everybody lets it go  by but on Wednesday a week and five days ago, when i was all excited about going to my reunion–which didnt happen–there was a visit from a young woman whose mother had just died (and her husband).  My parents had been to the funeral the previous Sunday.  This was all when there was still decency in this household.  Now its come and gone.

I was busy writing an email when rhe four if them came into the atrium outside the cottage door.  I had just returned from seeing the nun who i cousel with for Baptism classes.  My mother had said ti be sure to cone and talk to Helga..  I stalled while i wrote the email and then just came out for a few minutes because i didnt really have anything to say.  Wben i was young i frequently didnt join my parents’ friend’s vists, in fact i pretty much never did, i was usually found sitting in my room reading.

The two couples left and went back to the main house.  Then i thought i really should go over and join them, and i did, but my mother didnt welcone me   there was niwhere to sit in rhe littke sitting area of the kitchen, my mother did not get uo to make room for me.  Hekga and het husband were clearly a little alarmed.  But i did as my mother expressly wished and went back to the cottage.  It was extrenemy embarrassing.  I was all hot about rhe reunion and quite ready ti be social but my mother didnt extend the invitation.. in the past i have had a lot if sociasl difficulties, as i have suggested, but i am outgriwing them finally.

So i went back to the cottage and prayed but did not pray the Rosary as the Lord asked because he asked it through my mother’s voice and i dudbt understand.  I jumpoed up and decided to go ack there, on the grounds that of course i was being rude, i was forgetting about the funeral, Helgas mother had just died, and i should have been expressing condolences

Well that sounds right and maybe if i had just gone over for a moment it would have been (?) But i stayed as my mother and father chatted and showed them around this curious house and, cutting to the chase there was a scene as it cane time for them to go.  I had also forgotten that my mother called this young woman when she–my mother– was rebelling against me and asserting her rights.  My mother has a problem with believing that people (and cats) are out to dominate her.  Instead if seeibg a need and her responsibility, she sees a person wilfully imposing onher.  I was a daughter who was sick a lot, i had a problem all my life that nobody understood (the being kneed in the crotvh by my brother.)  It was a bizarre problem.  Its coming up in Spades right now, i just went 8 days without attending to my GI and had the most painful time dealing with it.

So my mother was feeling embarrassed and she teared up a little as this young woman was saying goodbye and the woman was all over it, she had just list her mother, she had been picking up on all kiundss of tension, and she didn’t like to see an elderly mother seeming not ti be appreciated.  My morher let a few more tears flow.  This was her moment.  Thus was the referendum on her whole life that she had  always been waiting for.So my father steps in.  There had been talk IF classical music, this woman’s deceased morher had taught piano days before her death, or months–sonething like that.  My father steps in with a pun of sorts.   ” yes its not gros dein kunts but dein gross kunts” i dont know what exactly he was saying, im not part of the crowd but i was aware of “gross cunt” floating on the breeze for a long moment.  And when i was prompted to stay up late that night–and did–i realized that my father was calling me a name.  And i looked back and remembered all the posturing after that as Helgas husband tried to handle the situation, his chief intention being to get his wife  safely out of the door.

They are coming back in June, the woman said.  My mother has taken to her bed.  Now my father too.  They claim a mystetious ullness which has no visible symptoms but makes them very tired.

Tonight my father delivered an insult when i bothered to mention the fallen at dinner (its Memorial Day.)  Something about the FAT robin at the feeder out the window.  He said it twice.  I am FAT.  I have lost 40 pounds   i have posted here about it.  But yes i am still FAT.  He is barely even there he is so thin, a little wisp of a man.  I committed the  error if putting my mother in the wrong, i said that at the personal care boarding home sometimes the veterans wore uniform.  When my mother had said the vets dont usuaslly do that.

Leaving this one in Limbo.  Dont know what to do.  Its getting nasty.  Im told not to stay in the presence of evil, and that converting them (to a Christian faith) isnt my job.  I dobt want to leave this lovely spot and my son begged me not to keave his catss and where would i go?  Im living here rent free.  I only have my disability pay and ts not enough to live on.

Praying to St. Joseph fir bounty.

This was updated Tuesday morning outside the medical lab, now im at rhe Giant supermarket nect door.  Im at cross purposes, i wanted to pray more but then i remembered that all was well this morning, everything was as well as could be, but i fell inti a fear of my mither between the medical lab and here so Im saying a Hail Holy Queen over the intentions in tjis post.






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