And now it is my duty to completly drain you

19 Nov

Today we had family drama. Which really seems to be the main drama in our lives, aside from the whole barren womb thing. Is there anything more exhausting than the combination of guilt and frustration and obligation and anger that family drama causes?

This drama centers around someone who is really sick and might die in the next couple of days. Someone who has done some terrible things to the family, and ruled with an iron fist and fear, who is now the weak one that needs people. And my bitter heart can’t bend.

I don’t know, people. I read last night that depression is, if anything, a crisis of energy. Doesn’t that make perfect sense? It is like my body is just spitting out the disc, unable to read this drama. Don’t think I am a horrible person, I’m not. I would tell you the wrongs that this person committed but this isn’t the place for that. It doesn’t even really matter what I think, this is B’s side, it is his call, his forgiveness. And he is such a good person, I am so fierce when it comes to seeing him hurt. Now I have to watch him agonize over whether to issue some deathbed reprieve? How about not doing the bad things in the first place, and letting the deathbed be a place of love? I always want to go back, before the hurt. It seems easier to time travel than it does to heal a wrong sometimes.

I think what I am looking for, it’s called grace. Sure could use some right now.

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5 Responses to “And now it is my duty to completly drain you”

  1. Denise 11/20/2009 at 7:42 pm #

    When I was 16, my grandmother called me fat. She said I was such a pretty girl and asked me what I was doing to myself.

    I wore a size 9. I weighed 145 pounds. I didn’t feel fat before then.

    When I told my parents what she said, my father called her. He was furious, and rightfully so. The subject was never broached again.

    Every time I saw her after that, I worried that she was quietly judging me. I wondered what she would have said if my parents hadn’t been there.

    I got married last November. I weighed 217 pounds. What was supposed to be My Happy Day made me feel self concious. If my grandmother thought I was fat at 145, imagine what she thought then. I couldn’t shake it.

    I was angry at her for years. I couldn’t very well stop speaking to her, but from then on our conversations were forced, polite, and superficial. I felt like a big fat failure, unable to control my body, unwilling to put forth the discipline needed to lose weight.

    She had surgery earlier this year. She went in to have her heart operated on. My dad gave me the phone number to her hospital room. I looked at it for an hour. I did not want a conversation revolving around the weight I was the last time she saw me. I’d lost 20 pounds since my wedding, but she had no idea. I was terrified of what she might say to me since I didn’t have my parents around.

    I called her. She told me how beautiful I looked at my wedding, how nice my husband was. We gossiped about my cousins. Had I been imagining her disdain this entire time?

    I hung up and decided to forgive her.

    She died the next day.

    I know it sounds a little Hallmark Movie Of The Week, but I’m glad that I talked to her. At the heart of it, forgiveness benefits the angry the most.

    On the other hand, Jason’s father is a fucking asshole and I hate him without ever having met him. I hate him because my husband feels like a failure in his father’s eyes. I hope the bastard rots in hell for a year of Sundays. So it’s a lot easier to extend forgiveness to those who have wronged us. Those who have wronged the ones we love, however… That’s a completely different side of the coin.

    • lswan 11/22/2009 at 8:25 pm #

      I am so lucky to have people like you guys that read and comment and share your lives with me. It’s just amazing to me.

      So, first of all, I am glad that you forgave your grandmother, and I am sorry that you had to have that extra burden of weight worries. I mean, we worry enough about our weight, we don’t really need family telling us how to feel, you know?

      I was really, really skinny in middle school and high school. Once my grandmother accused me of being bulimic, because I went to the bathroom right after a meal. Which, dude, I was totally pooping, but whatevs. So while it was on the opposite side of the spectrum, having a grandmother judge you about your weight is really hard. She always used to tell me I would be sorry one day when my genetics stopped working, and they did, and now I am super chubby, and I want to tell her THANKS FOR NOTHING DUDE.

      It’s the curse of being a girl, I guess. When I was really skinny I didn’t appreciate it, and now that I am heavier I wish for those days back. I am trying really hard to be happy with where I am at, but of course that is easier said than done.

      Anyway, thank you for sharing. I dig you. 🙂

  2. Desiraie 11/22/2009 at 2:35 am #

    My mother has 5 brothers and 2 sisters. While working with a buddy under the hood of a car in the barn, my grandfather decided that two of the boys (about age 8 & 10) would be given up for adoption to his buddy. Considering my grandfather’s controlling and abusive ways, I’m not sure my grandmother could have fought him if she wanted to.

    When my grandmother was dying of cancer at 62 (in my childhood bedroom), she was hanging on extra long and we couldn’t really figure out why. We called the one boy she had given birth to that hadn’t visited (one of those two who had been given up). He didn’t really understand why he could have any impact. He said he didn’t have any feelings for her one way or the other. To him, she wasn’t his mother. He wasn’t bitter, just not concerned. I don’t blame him. But, bless his heart, he listened to us ladies in the family (we’d always been close with him) and he went ahead and visited. They didn’t have much to say but she was finally at peace and she passed away two days later.

    I won’t say he had forgiven her but he understood that a dying woman’s need to see the children she gave birth to was important and he swallowed any feelings he had to give her what she needed to die. He still doesn’t really have any feelings about it but he does feel he did the right thing.

    As for my grandfather, he’s an abusive, molesting, rapist piece of shit and as far as most of the kids are concerned, he is already dead to them. His issue right now is not having anyone to leave all his precious crap to when he dies. No one wants it. And even as much as I hate this man who tried desperately to teach me to be a racist, I have the tiniest bit of desire to contact him. He’s the only grandparent I have left, not that he deserves the title. I don’t want his stuff and I’m afraid the conversation would be traumatizing rather than provide closure.

    The bottom line … when dealing with these situations, each person needs to follow their heart and do what they feel is right for them. The person dying will soon find peace no matter their situation. The question is, what can you, the survivor, handle? How will you feel in the future based on the decision and action you take now? That’s all that really matters.

    I’m sorry you guys are going through this. xoxo

    • lswan 11/22/2009 at 8:31 pm #

      Des, thanks for being you, first of all. See above comment about how lucky I feel that you guys read and share.

      This was an amazing story. I mean, really, it has the potential to be a book or something. I remember a writing teacher quoting someone famous once, saying that we all have enough material for a novel by the time we are five. Every family is full of stories.

      So B ended up going to see him. He pretty much did the same thing, he granted the reprieve for his family and for his grandpa more than for himself. It has been a real lesson for us in forgiveness. Worse things have happened to people, people have forgiven for so much more. I thought of it last night when I was reading an old short story that I love, she says,

      “The evening news is full of death: young marines, young mothers, young children. By comparison you have already lived forever. In a kind of heaven.”

      So true.

      • Desiraie 11/23/2009 at 11:47 pm #

        It’s funny you say that. I swear there has been this little bug in the back of my brain that tells me I want to write a book some day about my life. I’m not sure how it will go but I shared all of my calendars and the notes I leave on them so I won’t forget when I’m ready to write it. Crazy.

        So true, about the novel by the time we are 5 because the biggest things that happened, really happened before then. By 5 I had lived in like 20 places and was on my third last name. Such a big thought to ponder.

        I feel lucky to have you too, Linds. Really I do. Definitely entered each others’ lives for a reason. 🙂

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