"Bile...." April 28, 2000

"Bile...." April 28, 2000

Just Before Midnight...

....and I could not write for the last few days, although I probably should have. It would have been a much better, healthier coping mechanism.

But today was another day.

I have just finished bathing in frankincense, shampooing in peony and seaweed, a shot of kaluah and two of tequilla, and here I am.

Call me Highlands A., friend of Bill W.

There was an incident with my mother, The Goddess, and me Tuesday. I suppose the prelude to it was a phone call I received two weeks ago from my mother, demanding that I "get a grip on my wife, who thinks she knows it all, because I am tired of hearing your sister in tears everytime I talk to her!"

Well, Poor Dawne. If she were not so rude on the phone to our visiting company, thinking it is The Goddess, then my wife would not have to discuss an issue with her to begin with. It was a discussion with fortitude, after many like discussions before.

And shame on her for involving our mother to begin with. We're adults, for Christ's sake. One should not need Mommy to fight my battles for me, particularly a highly mentally ill, physically wasting away mommy.

Nevertheless, Tuesday's incident began when The Goddess and me stopped by the folks' place to drop off both Easter presents, and my Dad's birthday presents. We gave mom a crystale tealight holder with an etched butterfly mirrored back. For Dad, we purchased a pound of fresh scallops as an Easter treat, and golf books for his birthday. Initially, during the visit, things were pleasant enough. This is despite it being the first time I had talked to my mother since telling her I supported The Goddess telling Dawne that sometimes her behaviour is not okay. Had my father been present Tuesday, I am sure things would have panned out differently.

As it was, he was working.

It all started with The Goddess telling my mom that if she is upset with her about something, if she wants to discuss something, then she is more than welcome, she is encouraged without fear, to call her and talk to her about it. The Goddess told her that it is important to communicate feelings to the person involved.

Let the tirade begin.

My mother spent the next ten minutes yelling and crying about me, to my wife, not having to courage or conviction to say what she was saying and look me in the eye.

She said I was cruel and vindictive for not taking Reekie and Moo to see Dawne on a regular basis.

Well, Dawne is a big girl, can take the bus or a cab, and come over to see Reekie and Moo any time she wants. All she has to do is call and make prior arrangements. How would she feel if I called her and told her to bring the kids over here, and then accuse her of being cruel and vindictive when she did not comply??

My mother then said that all she was to me was an ATM.

I rarely have asked my mother for money. I cannot even count how much she has shelled out to Dawne, who flags the kids out in front of anyone in the position to give her something, when she wants something.

My mother then said that when she dies, I'll be the first one at the door looking for handouts. Well, Mother dear, I hate to tell ya, it aint gonna happen. Not in a million years. I have all I could ever want; a loving wife, a roof over my head, food in my belly, and a family of friends. What more could I possibly, ever want? Look to your daughter for that scenario. Despite your teachings, mother, money is only printed paper.

Nothing more.

I would have a tremendously difficult time meeting my basic needs without it, but The Goddess and I would do it together.

Mommy dearest then accused me of breaking my father's heart when I did not call on his birthday to wish him greetings. Well, I did. I tried several times. No one was home, or no one would answer. Since you abjectly refuse to get an answering machine, please do not make assumptions.

One last aspect of my mother's tirade was the suffering and toil I put my sister, roommate, and their children through when, after my father's recent shoulder surgery, I refused to come down and pile wood. I in turn forced the above mentioned delicate treasures to take my place at the wood pile.

Well, my parents demaned that I pile wood as condition for borrowing my mother's car when mine broke down. Funny, Dawne gets it whenever she wants, for whatever she wants, and does not even have a driver's liscence, let alone need a vehicle to earn her income. When I am a parent, I will never, ever make what I do for my children conditional. All they had to do was call me and ask me if I would be able to go down and load some wood.

It is that simple.

I would have been there in a heartbeat.

It pains me a great deal that a mother would think this way of her son. More than one could possibly imagine.

All I can do is stay away, all I will do is stay away. I will not subject myself to the company of someone who has such a negative, vile opinion of me.

I have learned that I do not have to.....

....Blessed Be...