personal

Cha cha changes

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I just got a hair cut. Seven inches of golden tresses fell to the floor. They were swept up and thrown away. Gone.

My life is changing. I have no control. I just turned another year older. My daughter will be an adult this week.

I still have control over some things, like my hair. I haven’t had my hair this short for over a decade. What was I waiting for?

I took half a day off on Friday to get my hair done. After the hair cut, I felt stressed because things were out of control at work while I was gone. In the matter of two hours, I had 5 voicemail messages and my email was blowing up with problems at work. Big time Tetris. I find it harder and harder to take any time off because I end up paying for it later.

Then I ran into someone that I know. She said she was not doing well because her husband lost his job. That really put things into perspective for me. I have a job. We can pay our bills. This business is going to pay off big time. I just have to make sure the stress doesn’t kill me first.

We had our daughter’s graduation party this weekend. I spent the rest of the afternoon on Friday running errands for the party and preparing food. The party itself went great. The event was rather uneventful which was really good. We had enough food and drinks. The weather was great. It wasn’t too hot or too cold. It didn’t rain. Really, what more could we ask for?? I admit, I had a lot of anxiety beforehand. This was the first party that I planned with so many people attending. Seriously, what was I worried about? Everything turned out.  

We had the party up north at the family cabin. Everyone pulled through to prepare and help clean up which I really appreciated. So many family and friends offered to bring food. 

Alex brought up his new girlfriend to meet the family. Now that he has his license he can drive the old moped that is up there. He gladly drove to the gas station for ice and whatever was needed. I am afraid though that he drove it too fast. He wants to get a motorcycle someday. Oh, that kid is going to be the death of me yet!

Angel had a great party. I am sad that she grew up so fast. She was so much fun to raise. Next month she is leaving to start her own life. I feel happy and sad at the same time. So many aspects of my life are changing. I don’t have control over time. But I do have control over my hair. Well, most of the time anyway.

Birthday blues

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Tomorrow is my birthday.

What do I want? Something that can’t be bought in a store.

I want a day of peace and tranquility. Just one day that is problem free. I want an escape from my normal routine.

Every day is the same. I start a couple loads of laundry before heading off to work. I deal with problems at work. Then I deal with problems at home. Sometimes simultaneously. After I make supper, clean the kitchen, and fold laundry I finally get to go to bed. I wake up and do it all over again the next day. Although I enjoy working and keeping busy, sometimes adulting can be monotonous and the responsibility burdensome.

I have to work tomorrow. After work, the kids want to do something with me. All I want from them is peace. I don’t want to hear any fighting. Even when we play games, they constantly tease each other by calling names or saying that their siblings suck. They say that it is all in jest, but I don’t find it very funny.

Paul has play practice on my birthday. I should’ve known to lower my expectations when he got the lead part in the summer play. He doesn’t have time for me anymore. I was hoping that he would go up north with me last weekend. When we got together with theater friends last week, he spontaneously offered to take them sailing this past weekend. So he did that instead. Then he asked me to crew for his race last night, but I was replaced by his theater friends. I was okay with that because I only wanted to be a sub. However, he has been sailing with a much younger single woman (not alone) from the theater that thinks he’s hot. I guess I would care more if she was attractive. I was hoping to sail with Paul for almost a week for our anniversary, but we cut it back to a weekend for play practice. I am getting really sick of it already.

I feel left out. I didn’t know all of the inside jokes. I am just an introvert who wants to feel included, but doesn’t want to go. I feel like no one cares about me. The kids really don’t need me much anymore. Sometimes I don’t really care about me either. I almost got hit by a car this morning while I was out riding my bike. The lady almost went through a stop sign. She slammed on her brakes last minute when she saw me. I didn’t get angry like I usually do. I didn’t really care. Hey, I’m still here!

Although my best friend Lisa moved home almost two months ago, we have only seen each other twice. I don’t feel like running with her. I would rather be alone.

When I was a kid, my mom made a very big deal out of my birthday. It was the one day of the year that my life wasn’t all about my autistic brother. I think because of that I have high expectations of how that day should go. Every year it seems harder and harder to get excited. My birthday always signifies the middle of summer. It is going by so quickly this year. I don’t want summer to end and I don’t want to get any older!

Tomorrow I will be 21 (doubled). Gulp! Ready or not, here I come.

The purge

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I was always a writer. I started scribbling in diaries before I could write. Now those old letters seem strangely reminiscent of hieroglyphics found in a dark cave. It doesn’t make sense to me anymore. It is not even me anymore.

I wrote my first book in grade school. I wrote for hours and hours a fictional story about a girls orphanage. It was a childhood dream of mine to give lonely little girls a home. I wrote a story about their struggles and how I saved them. Then my middle school self thought that it was stupid and threw it out. Then I began to write my story.

Almost 5 years ago, I became friends with my ex-boyfriend Brad on Facebook. I asked him for my old pictures back. He sent me a big stack of my pictures to my home address. These were childhood pictures too old to be on digital print. He wanted one thing in return, his diary back. When I was going out with Brad he was in the military and kept a diary while he was on a Navy ship.

I searched through my stack of old journals. I found the diary and started to read it. I was hoping to find a riveting piece of historical non-fiction. But instead found a romantic novel obsessing about me. It contained page after page of personal biography about my life, my family, and my struggles. There was no way I was going to give that back, so I threw it out. We were both happily married to other people. I thought it would be forgotten, but I thought wrong.

It was also at that time that I threw out all of my high school notes written back and forth between friends. My childhood wasn’t the happiest part of my life. I was afraid that my children (my oldest at the time was 13) would find them. I didn’t want them to see me. I didn’t want them to be like the teen me.

Those were hard days. It seemed like I was always searching for that glimmer of hope. I spent a long time in the dark grasping for light before I got out. Now it lingers behind me in another dimension like an abyss or black hole. I feel if I go back it will trap me and I will never be able to leave again. This weekend I felt a lot of sorrow where there should’ve been nostalgia. My demons were restless. 

So I purged away the old high school notes and Brad’s diary forever. Unfortunately, at the same time, I think I accidently threw out all of the letters that my mom sent me when she was in the hospital with my brother Matt. I feel very sad about that. But I don’t feel bad about Brad’s diary. Thankfully I kept all of my diaries.

There was a time (after I was dating a guy named Mac) when the words I wrote were powerful enough to almost destroy me. Mac found my diaries. Unbeknownst to me, he read them and tore out a few pages. He later tried to blackmail me with my own words. He threatened to send pages of my diary to my family members unless I took him back. It was terrifying, but I didn’t go back. Eventually he mailed the missing pages back to me. I certainly didn’t want something like that to happen again. I thought that Brad would move on with his life and forget all about it.

Then something happened, Brad’s wife passed away. Brad started contacting my mom asking if I was happy in my marriage because he still has feelings for me. It freaked my mom out and she warned me. A couple of months after that, I expressed sadness over the unexpected death of my neighbor. Brad sent me a message saying that he would be a shoulder to lean on.  

Then a month ago, Brad sent me a message asking for the diary back. I told him that I threw it out. I sent him a nice message saying how I hope that someday he will be happy again and how that has nothing to do with me. His future is not in the past. We haven’t dated since the early 1990’s when I was still in high school. 

Then this weekend my dad said that he received a long email from Brad stating that he was upset and hurt that I threw out the diary. He still has feelings for me. My dad said that his message was a little “off”. WTH?? I haven’t even seen him for over 20 years. Twenty years!! Two decades!! Why the hell is he bugging my parents about a stupid diary he wrote about me in 1992?? 

This is so insane that I can’t even believe that I am writing about this. Why does this craziness happen to me? Seriously, I wasn’t that great of a girlfriend. I am not even the same girl that I used to be. 

Ready to call it a day…

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It has been a long day…

Paul and I awoke this morning at 6 AM by the jarring ring of his cell phone. His busybody cousin was calling early to tell him that she thought his mother needed more home care. His mother has been in and out of the hospital over the past month with terminal cancer. Martha insisted that she didn’t need home care. His cousin who is a CNA that acts like a doctor said that Martha was lying. Then she started accusing Paul for not being there more. This is a cousin that we have not seen for about 15 years. She swooped in out of nowhere and started taking charge. Paul suggested that if she has a problem with Martha’s care, then she should talk to Martha’s husband Darryl. 

It really wasn’t the best start this morning. Paul felt so offended by his cousin. It is always so terrifying to have a late night or early morning call when you have a dying parent. Who does that?? 

Then I scrambled to work for a half day to find out that the employee that would be covering for me in the afternoon couldn’t make it in because her brother-in-law had a heart attack. Oh, and she told me that she had to take my birthday off for a doctor appointment after I already made plans. So I had to cancel my birthday plans. 

At this point, I am feeling stressed and angry. Not a good morning at all.

I took the afternoon off of work to take my son in for his driving test. We spent a couple of hours before the test having a “crash” course on driving. He only got honked at once. Then he went in and passed the test. Afterwards, he started asking if he could borrow the car for the weekend to hang out with his friends. So now this starts?? I’ve accepted the fact that I am not his number one hang buddy. He is finally starting to talk to me more. Last night he even hung out with me and played his favorite rap songs. I can’t say that I approved of all the lyrics. But he wanted to hang out with me, so I tolerated it. Pathetic, I know. Wait until you have a teenage son that never comes out of his room. I did get a few new running songs though.

Then this evening I have plans to organize Angel’s graduation party. It is only a few weeks away and I have no idea what I am doing. I am not a crafty mom at all. 

I am ready to call it a day already!

It’s a match!

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Taking my daughter to college orientation brought back my college days. I was on the 5 year plan. I double majored, didn’t take summer classes, and worked part-time. Half of those years, I commuted from my parents house or lived in an apartment off campus with friends. But the first year of college, I lived in an apartment on campus. 

I found it fascinating that my daughter had the opportunity to pick her own roommate. They had to create an online profile with their picture and a short description of themselves. They also had to rank themselves on several scales such as cleanliness, etc. Then when they found someone they thought would be a match, they were encouraged to talk to them more through social media which included scouring through all of their online pictures and comments. It reminds me of online dating. I mean, not that I ever used it. Being with the same person over 20 years severely limits my knowledge of online dating. Thankfully after conversations with a dozen people and a serious let down, Angel finally found the “right one”.

I really wish we had that back in the day. My first year on campus, I was thrown into an apartment with another freshman and two seniors. The two oldest roommates were absolutely psycho. I shared a bedroom with a nice Catholic girl (Krista) that never had a boyfriend. She really was into New Age music. Yeah, she was a bit strange but nothing compared to the other two.

After a couple of weeks, one of the roommates (Kate) sat us down and told us that she was HIV positive. This was back in the early 90’s, a time when everyone panicked about HIV. People thought that they could catch it from a toilet seat. What if she cut herself shaving or got a bloody nose? God forbid! My mother was ready to drag me back home. Sometimes I would come home to find Kate crying and freaking out. The other roommate (Kathy) who was her best friend would comfort her. It was always ackward. I never knew what to do so I locked myself in my room. 

It wasn’t long before the older senior girls took over the living room area. They decorated it with crazy Halloween decor and penises. The walls were plastered with that crap. One day, my mom told me that she was going to come by to visit with my Aunt Jan and her little boy. Now my Aunt Jan is very religious. I knew she would freak out if she saw the state of our apartment. I pleaded with the roommates to take down to penis pictures. Thankfully they did, although my aunt never did come to visit that day.

We also had a chore chart in the apartment. After you completed the chore, you would slide the chore down to the next person’s name. I always left for the weekends, so I would get back and all of the chores would be in my name. I ended up having to do their sink full of dirty dishes from over the weekend. I think I made a stink about it, but it was three against one. 

One day while I was doing my chore of taking out the garbage, I saw something rather interesting. I saw Kathy kissing Kate’s boyfriend. They were making out in the parking lot. After that, my roommates didn’t seem to be best friends anymore. I ran into Kathy a few months after we were no longer roommates. She told me that Kate didn’t have HIV after all. She said that Kate was just pretending so that she could be the center of attention.

Back in the day, I wish we could’ve picked our own roommates. I know my daughter will have a better experience than I did. Every weekend they have scheduled activities. I don’t remember ever having anything like that. The most fun I had was running out in a nearby field with Krista twirling around in long skirts just before a storm hit. It was my one time free spirit moment. College sounds like so much fun now that I wish I could live that part of my life all over again there. 

Even during the campus tour and auditions, it sounded like a wonderful place to be. So wonderful that I mentioned out loud to my husband that we should quit our jobs and apply. The advisor commented that they do have a few non traditional students. Last year there was an 80 year old freshman. I said, “I sure hope that he wasn’t living in the freshman dorms”. Lol.

It sure is a lot easier letting go when I know my daughter will be in a wonderful place. 

Lilacs, mushrooms, roadkill, and dandelion wine 

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Every year when the lilacs bloom, I think of Darryl.

Darryl is my husband’s step-dad. He is a rugged outdoors man of the wild north woods. He doesn’t even have (gasp) internet. Except for being a non smoker, he is reminiscent of the Marlboro man of old. He is tall, lean, and ruggedly handsome for a man in his early 60’s. He has a head full of thick wavy hair. He works full-time as a forklift driver. He is a hard worker and has many other side jobs such as janitor, chimney sweep, and lumberjack. In the winter, he hooks up a plow to his pick up truck to earn some extra money. In the summer, he works in his massive garden.

Darryl lives off the land. In the fall, he is a deer hunter. He even goes black powder hunting. He processes his own venison. He takes the hides from the deer and sews his own clothing. In the winter, he goes ice fishing. In summer, he fishes from his boat. Life for Darryl is simple yet satisfying.

Darryl also picks up roadkill. One time he picked up a dead raccoon off the side of the road. He threw it into a crock pot and served it to my kids telling them it was chicken. They loved it.

I have learned over the years not to eat any of Darryl’s food. He has been known to leave brats in the fridge for months then serve them. Sometimes his food has a funny taste to it. He seems to have a strong constitution though.

Darryl also makes his own wine. He never follows a recipe when he makes his wine out of unusual ingredients such as potatoes or dandelions. It doesn’t always taste the greatest and sometimes has a high alcohol content. People have been known to spend the evening sick after a few glasses. In fact, a couple of weeks ago Paul and Darryl shared a bottle of wine while out fishing. Darryl lost his balance and fell out of the boat. Then he fell several more times on his walk back home. If Darryl offers me his wine, I tell him that I am strictly a beer drinker which isn’t entirely true.

Darryl says that every year when the lilacs bloom, the morel mushrooms are ready. Morel mushrooms are a very expensive delicacy in these parts. One year, he asked us if we wanted to go mushroom hunting with him. It sounded like an adventure, so we went. We combed the woods and found a few. On the car ride home, my skin was crawling with ticks. Darryl and Paul decided to fry up their mushrooms for supper that night. I don’t like mushrooms and was a tad bit worried when they wanted to eat their find since there is a false morel mushroom which is similar but poisonous. Darryl was fixated on mushrooms for awhile and even started carving a large intricate mushroom out of wood.

By far the most interesting story I heard about Darryl happened the time that he cut his leg open with a chain saw. Now Darryl is the cheapest guy that I know. He has been known to dumpster dive or collect items that others don’t want. In fact, he is a bit of a hoarder. His house is decorated in vintage 1970’s mismatched furniture. He has two refrigerators in his kitchen, one works and the other he uses for storage. After he cut his leg with a chain saw, he was too cheap to go to the doctor to get his leg stitched up. So he did it himself. He took a needle and some fish line and sewed it right up. He could win a survival competition hands down (or even tied behind his back)!

Darryl sure is an eccentric fellow. 

 

 

In deep water

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Last week I signed up for my first triathlon which prompted me to get myself into deep water.

This last weekend my two daughters, the neighbor girl, and I decided to go up north. The weather forecast didn’t look too promising, but it was the only weekend I had available this month to go up. The decision was pushed along a little further by Angel who really wanted to go. She is looking for a summer job and said that it will probably be one of the last weekends that she wouldn’t have to work. Plus I wanted to practice swimming in open water. So we packed our bags and went.

Last minute my brother Luke and his family came up. So did my parents with Matt. In the past, I wouldn’t have been able to bring visitor children up north. But it has been almost 14 years since Matt had a meltdown and hurt anyone, so I felt pretty safe. But I think there will always be the hesitation in my decisions regarding Matt. I can’t seem to forget how things used to be. Things that this new generation rarely had opportunity to see.

When the cabin is packed, sometimes we are in pretty tight quarters. I had to share a bed with my 6 year old niece Gracie one night and her 8 year old sister Mavis the next night. Now, as I found out, Mavis is a restless sleeper. She tossed and turned all night long. Sometimes I would wake up with her legs draped over me or her knee wedged in my hip socket. She stole my covers and they were strewn all over the room before the night was over, or it least it seemed that way. So needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep. Sorry if this post makes little sense! Zzzzzzz….

I have to swim 750 meters or about 1/2 mile for the tri. Saturday I decided to swim half way across the lake and back which is close to a 1/2 mile. I never swam across the lake without a tube or flotation device before. I will admit that even though I love water, I was a bit nervous. At times, I was a bit out of breath. I gasped for air and got a mouth full of water instead. At one point, a weed wrapped itself around my inner thigh which elicited a shriek. I have a fear of weeds. That caused my mind to become fearful. When I looked underwater, I thought that I saw big fish, turtles, underwater laughing loons, muskrats, man eating piranhas, or cadavers lurking in the water beneath me. My mind was playing tricks on me at the end. C’mon, it was only a weed! I didn’t have the security of escape. I wasn’t quite expecting how that would feel. 

This morning I told myself and everyone else that I would be swimming across again. I made a huge breakfast of eggs, hash browns, and bacon which I took my time preparing and eating. Then I had a long winded theological debate with my parents. I made sure to wait for the bathroom when the line was the longest. I took my time cleaning the kitchen and washing dishes. Was I stalling, perhaps?? This morning was a bit of a bear. I didn’t sleep well for two nights. It was raining with temps in the mid 60’s with 20 mph winds. Even the hardiest of children did not want to attempt a fun dip in the cool waters this morning. To be honest, neither did I.

Then my mom told a story of someone that fell out of a boat in a nearby lake that got wrapped in the weeds and drowned. She said that is why they had to kill the weeds in the lakes. What??!? Are you kidding me? I never heard such a thing! My mom told me to ask my dad. I asked him and it started another debate between my parents over weeds. Another delay! My mom prompted me to back out which made me want to even more. I did worry slightly about the vast amount of water that I ingested. Perhaps it was full of weed killing poison. Argghh!

I put on my swimming suit and finally headed for the water. The winds were catapulting pine cones at my head, but at least it stopped raining. An eagle circled above. I stood in the water wrapped in my towel for about 15 minutes until I could find the courage to embrace the cool water. I really wanted to chicken out. I really, really did. But I finally did it! I had a very similar experience as yesterday. But I was satisfied with it. I finally was able to get myself into deep water.

Graduation anticipation

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Today I want to talk some more about graduation. Eons ago, when I graduated from high school, we had to sit a couple of hours in a warm stinky gym. The mothers cried while the teens rejoiced in their new found freedom. We listened to someone talk for what seemed like hours in a monotone voice (of course!) saying something about this being the first day of the rest of our lives…blah, blah, blah… Now let’s get out of this school and on with our lives. We knew it all already. Why do we need someone telling us what to do? Graduation lasted for a few hours for one day. You’d think that some things, like graduation ceremonies, never change. Right? Nope.

For the last several weeks now we have been celebrating graduation with the seniors. It started out with the senior tea, which was really a mother-daughter banquet for the senior girls. No, we didn’t even drink a lick of tea. We did watch the jazz choir perform. Then between that and all of the other pre-graduation events, we had a slew of the last of everything. The last choir concert where we said good bye to the seniors. Last, last, last, last, last..

Then there was the senior scholarship banquet. Thankfully, Angel applied for many scholarships and received a few since the college she selected is far from cheap. Then last night there was the senior banquet for the parents and their graduate. We had a meal followed by the class picks. Angel was picked as the most musical in her class. Then we watched a slide presentation of pictures from over the senior year. The slide presentation went very fast before we could even focus on the images we were seeing. It went almost as fast as the senior year. Then they had baby pictures followed by senior pictures. ***Insert tears here*** 

What happened next floored me. They filmed showing the graduates items that they had to identify such as a fax machine, a pager, a camera with a flash bulb tower, and a floppy disc. The seniors could not identify the items. Really, where did the time go?? Then they had teachers close to my age answer questions. They asked, “What is a bae?” Apparently, it is not a large body of water. What is a tinder? Apparently not kindling to start a fire. I leaned over and asked Angel what a tinder was again. She said it was a hook up site. Hhmmm, a hook up to kindle a fire?  Certainly not. I can’t even imagine online dating. I have never felt so old!

The events over the past several week have been confusing. Sometimes we had to dress up, sometimes it was casual, and sometimes they had to wear their caps and gowns. I never could figure out what to wear. This morning was the award ceremony. Apparently this event required a cap and gown but Angel not know that. She drove 20 minutes to school and realized that she needed it. She called home upset saying that she wouldn’t be able to graduate. Angel started driving back home but was almost out of gas with no money. Paul ended up running her cap and gown to the school early since I didn’t even take a shower yet or get my dress clothes on. Yikes! It all worked out in the end.

On the way to the award ceremony, I had the radio on. I heard the song Rumpshaker that was popular when I was Angel’s age. Tears threatened to erupt from my eyes once more. Over the stupid song Rumpshaker! Geez. I was thinking about how old I was feeling. Hearing an old song made me think of the time that I thought I knew everything. I realize now that I am old and still don’t know anything. My eyes started watering, but I couldn’t have raccoon eyes before I even got to the school. Get a grip!

The awards ceremony lasted several hours. I sat next to the valedictorian’s mother. The valedictorian’s parents are both doctors. She was picked as the most likely to succeed. She earned 75% of the awards. She has a brilliant I’m going to find the cure for cancer mind. Angel won a few awards too. She received the top music student award. She has an incredible record for music performance including earning 3 exemplary awards at state. You can only earn that award for solos that have a perfect score. Angel earned 3 awards, a new record for the school. The valedictorian’s mother leaned over and congratulated me on my daughter’s success. I was shocked at her kindness since her daughter received more awards than she could carry. 

Now after having half my calendar booked this month with pre-graduation events, the big event is this weekend. I am sure that a few parents will be crying in relief that it is finally over. Did I just say that?? Not to mention the kids having finals this week and having countless graduation practices. Tomorrow is graduation cap and gown practice and pictures. Then a summer of endless graduation parties. I still have a few invites to send out, pictures to find, and a party to plan. Okay, maybe graduation does not end after graduation…

Today my neighbors brought their newborn baby home from the hospital. It seems like yesterday that I was doing the same.

Back to the present

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Today I struggled with what to write. I want to go back to my autism series that I started earlier this month but so much is happening in my life right now. How can I talk about the past when the present is exciting, here, and almost gone?? I will finish it though. With the marathon last weekend and my first child’s graduation this weekend, I have a thousand thoughts and emotions running through my head. And it all has to fit into one post per day that should contain an average of 500 words. Lol.

Last night, Paul and I decided to call our parents to try to convince them into going to Angel’s graduation. I called my dad and asked him directly if he was going. Now I typically call my dad twice a year, on his birthday and on Father’s Day. So it was a big deal that I was calling him. He seemed happy to hear from me. He told me that Angel was a nice and good girl. He said that he was planning on going to her graduation. I was floored. Then he even asked me how my marathon went. I was shocked that the whole conversation was very positive.

Then I walked out of my bedroom to find that things didn’t go quite as well with Paul and his mom. Martha was on the phone with Angel saying that she wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t be able to make it. But this time she is really sick. So sick that she couldn’t make it in to her chemo appointment yesterday. I believe that she is really sick this time. But I liken it to the story of the boy that called wolf. Martha has been calling wolf so many times over the past several years that now my mind finds it had to believe that there is a wolf.

But there is a wolf. Martha has terminal cancer, the big devouring wolf. A few weeks ago, Martha was going to go with me to see Angel perform her solo and ensemble pieces at state. Martha was supposed to be at my house by nine. I waited around until 11:00, Martha didn’t show up or call. By that time I had already missed half of Angel’s performances. At 11, Paul called his mom and she was still at home an hour away from our house. She wasn’t feeling good enough to go but didn’t bother to call. She was going to try to make it out to eat with us later that evening for Mother’s Day.

I knew that Martha was sick. But it still brought up all of those old feelings that I had towards her for standing up my kids. I was very angry and hurt. I drove fast to get to the remainder of Angel’s events. I was pissed that I wasn’t there to support Angel when I told her I would be there to watch her. Then I even started to feel a little guilty that I was angry with my mother-in-law who is dying. So I have become tolerant. I have repressed the years of resentment, hurt, and anger.

It is hard because now I think that Martha might want to go to Angel’s graduation. But it is too late now. She should have gone to more things when she was able to. She should have been the involved grandparent then. Now it is much too late.

 

Time to move on

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The marathon is over, now it is time to move on to next weekend’s big event. Graduation! My daughter will be graduating from high school. I think that I finally accepted the fact that she is ready to move on with her life without us. Over the past couple of weeks we attended her last school play, a musical that she was in, state solo and ensemble, and her last choir concert crying a little along the way. Last, last, last, and last. I don’t want to be sad about this anymore! I want to be excited about all of her new adventures in life. First, first, new, new, new..

Throughout the last several years, my mom, Paul, and I have supported Angel though all of her events. Last night Angel expressed some sadness over the fact that some classmates have two rows of family come to support them. At her last choir concert, Angel had several solos with only 3 family members there to cheer her on.

She is worried that her grandparents won’t even come to her graduation. Besides my mom, I don’t think that her other grandparents will go either unless we try hard to convince them.

My dad volunteered to work at a food stand this whole weekend. If he can do that, I am sure he could take off an hour to see his granddaughter graduate. When I mentioned attending graduation to my mother-in-law she said that she probably couldn’t afford to go. She can’t afford to drive a half an hour to her grandchild’s (free) special event? Pathetic!

Year after year, we listened to lame excuses for not attending the parties/events of our children. I don’t feel good, it is too hot outside, it is too cold, it might snow, it’s raining, I don’t have money, my car broke down, I have a casino trip planned with the girls, I can’t take off of work, I had to go shopping but I will stop by after your event, my water heater broke and I couldn’t take a shower, etc… This has been very hurtful.

My dad isn’t any better. He doesn’t make lame excuses, he just doesn’t go.

But how can we expect our parents to be good grandparents when they weren’t good parents? It is very disappointing. They can blow off all the other events, but I think a graduation is a big deal. I am planning on giving my dad a call and Paul is going to call his mom and step-dad in an attempt to try to convince them that they should go.

We’ll see what happens. If they decide not to go after we tell them how important it is for them to be there, I am ready to write them all out of my life…

We really shouldn’t have to try to convince our parents to attend our daughter’s graduation, should we??