Friday - Ties that Chafe and Bind
Jun. 8th, 2007 02:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermoreSometimes I find myself doing a good deed without even trying. The other week I was speaking to a cousin of mine and I delivered an opinion about his mother, my aunt Rhea, that my mother uttered 25 years ago. When I did this, I gave him the validation he had apparently been seeking for more than 30 years. It really made his day.
"My mom always said your mom was mean," I told him.
He had been complaining about his mother and how everyone always thought he exaggerated about her. When I passed on this clinical assessment of his mom from the only member of the family who was certifiably sane, he was elated.
"Thank you!" he shouted. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
"I didn't say it, my mom did. But you're welcomed."
"Yeah, but if your mom said it, it means something." I am not known as sane myself, but I am the daughter of the only sane sister in the family. This gives me a certain air of credibility.
My cousin then proceeded to tell stories about his mom to back up his assertion – and my mom's – that Aunt Rhea is not a nice person.
"Do you remember my train set?" my cousin asked.
I didn't.
He was incredulous. To him, his train set had been very impressive and unforgettable. From the time he was 8 years old, he had meticulously worked to build a little village out of popsicle sticks for his miniature railroad to serve. It was assembled on a large piece of plywood in his family's garage, at least until the day that my Aunt Rhea got into an argument with someone on the phone. My cousin was 12 years old when his mother stormed into the garage, lifted one end of the board holding the train set, and slammed the whole thing into the wall of the garage, destroying trains, tracks and the village alike.
"She wasn't even mad at me!" he said. "She was mad at Aunt Corrine! But she destroyed my train set! And she never even apologized!"
I agreed that this pretty mean of her.
"Did you know she almost got arrested for hitting a neighborhood child one time? This little 11 year old girl was riding her bike and came into our yard. Mom went outside to yell at her to stay off the grass and she thought the child sassed her, so she slapped her across the face. Then she asks me to drive to the store to buy something, so I left. On my way back, I saw these cop cars in front of the house with their lights flashing, and Mom was standing on the front porch talking to them. The girl's parents called them and they threatened to press charges. I drove by like I didn't even live there. I was hoping they would haul her ass to jail. Mom saw me go by and she hasn't forgiven me to this day; she thought I was going to talk to the police and help her out of it. They didn't arrest her, though. They convinced the parents that since the kid was technically trespassing, mom could file charges against them, too. So she got away with hitting someone else's kid. I'll tell you what: I think it would have been funny as hell if they'd taken her in."
I agreed it would have been funny. Those cops cheated the whole family out of a good laugh.
My cousin continued his diatribe. He told me how during a recent visit his mom got into an argument with his wife and thrown a glass of water at her. Someone else had driven his mother to his house (he lives in another town a good distance from her), but she told this person not to bother sticking around because her son had promised to drive her home that night. It was a work night for him, and my cousin's wife had said that my aunt would have to stay the night because my cousin could not make such a long round trip and still be expected to wake up and make it to his job.
"He promised me he would! He promised!" Aunt Rhea screeched before drenching her hapless daughter-in-law with the contents of her water glass.
My cousin got an evil look in his eye. "She said I promised. Let me tell you, I've only ever promised her one thing. When [our grandmother] got so senile that they put her in a nursing home because no one could handle taking care of her anymore, my mom tried to make me promise I would never put her in one.
"I looked her straight in the eye and I told her, 'When you get so old that you can't take care of yourself, I promise you this: no way in hell are coming to live with me. I promise to find the dirtiest, most rat-infested hell hole I can and I'm going to stick you in it. You can take that promise to the bank, Mom.'"
I believe him.
When I was pregnant learned that I was having a son, a lot of people told me that the bond that ties a mother to her son is like no other. Looking at my extended family, I can see this is true. Sometimes, it's a bond of love that enriches the lives of the parent and the child alike. In other cases, it's like a pair of rusty handcuffs that chafe so bad that the son would chew his own hand off in order to get away.
I will try to be nicer to my own son then my Aunt Rhea was to hers. That way, when my boy picks my nursing home, there will be a chance that he will at least try to find one without rats.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * # * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
"My mom always said your mom was mean," I told him.
He had been complaining about his mother and how everyone always thought he exaggerated about her. When I passed on this clinical assessment of his mom from the only member of the family who was certifiably sane, he was elated.
"Thank you!" he shouted. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
"I didn't say it, my mom did. But you're welcomed."
"Yeah, but if your mom said it, it means something." I am not known as sane myself, but I am the daughter of the only sane sister in the family. This gives me a certain air of credibility.
My cousin then proceeded to tell stories about his mom to back up his assertion – and my mom's – that Aunt Rhea is not a nice person.
"Do you remember my train set?" my cousin asked.
I didn't.
He was incredulous. To him, his train set had been very impressive and unforgettable. From the time he was 8 years old, he had meticulously worked to build a little village out of popsicle sticks for his miniature railroad to serve. It was assembled on a large piece of plywood in his family's garage, at least until the day that my Aunt Rhea got into an argument with someone on the phone. My cousin was 12 years old when his mother stormed into the garage, lifted one end of the board holding the train set, and slammed the whole thing into the wall of the garage, destroying trains, tracks and the village alike.
"She wasn't even mad at me!" he said. "She was mad at Aunt Corrine! But she destroyed my train set! And she never even apologized!"
I agreed that this pretty mean of her.
"Did you know she almost got arrested for hitting a neighborhood child one time? This little 11 year old girl was riding her bike and came into our yard. Mom went outside to yell at her to stay off the grass and she thought the child sassed her, so she slapped her across the face. Then she asks me to drive to the store to buy something, so I left. On my way back, I saw these cop cars in front of the house with their lights flashing, and Mom was standing on the front porch talking to them. The girl's parents called them and they threatened to press charges. I drove by like I didn't even live there. I was hoping they would haul her ass to jail. Mom saw me go by and she hasn't forgiven me to this day; she thought I was going to talk to the police and help her out of it. They didn't arrest her, though. They convinced the parents that since the kid was technically trespassing, mom could file charges against them, too. So she got away with hitting someone else's kid. I'll tell you what: I think it would have been funny as hell if they'd taken her in."
I agreed it would have been funny. Those cops cheated the whole family out of a good laugh.
My cousin continued his diatribe. He told me how during a recent visit his mom got into an argument with his wife and thrown a glass of water at her. Someone else had driven his mother to his house (he lives in another town a good distance from her), but she told this person not to bother sticking around because her son had promised to drive her home that night. It was a work night for him, and my cousin's wife had said that my aunt would have to stay the night because my cousin could not make such a long round trip and still be expected to wake up and make it to his job.
"He promised me he would! He promised!" Aunt Rhea screeched before drenching her hapless daughter-in-law with the contents of her water glass.
My cousin got an evil look in his eye. "She said I promised. Let me tell you, I've only ever promised her one thing. When [our grandmother] got so senile that they put her in a nursing home because no one could handle taking care of her anymore, my mom tried to make me promise I would never put her in one.
"I looked her straight in the eye and I told her, 'When you get so old that you can't take care of yourself, I promise you this: no way in hell are coming to live with me. I promise to find the dirtiest, most rat-infested hell hole I can and I'm going to stick you in it. You can take that promise to the bank, Mom.'"
I believe him.
When I was pregnant learned that I was having a son, a lot of people told me that the bond that ties a mother to her son is like no other. Looking at my extended family, I can see this is true. Sometimes, it's a bond of love that enriches the lives of the parent and the child alike. In other cases, it's like a pair of rusty handcuffs that chafe so bad that the son would chew his own hand off in order to get away.
I will try to be nicer to my own son then my Aunt Rhea was to hers. That way, when my boy picks my nursing home, there will be a chance that he will at least try to find one without rats.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
one without rats.
Date: 2007-06-08 07:59 pm (UTC)Re: one without rats.
Date: 2007-06-09 09:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-08 09:27 pm (UTC)At least you gave him validation...that can be HUGE present for someone...
*HUGS*
no subject
Date: 2007-06-08 11:14 pm (UTC)I've had friends give me the validation I needed too. Many have reminded me of thing's I've conveniently forgotten over the years and said that they stopped calling me to go out because it seemed like every time I went out it came with such a high cost that they didn't want to put me through it.
no subject
Date: 2007-06-08 10:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-09 01:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-08 11:15 pm (UTC)Dear god, that doesn't even need to be finished. MOTH is bad enough - and hey, it makes a really descriptive word of how life with that sort of woman is. Good job!
no subject
Date: 2007-06-09 01:52 pm (UTC)...E if for the evil of her essence, R is for her raving lunacy. Put them all together they spell MOTHER! That Psychopathic Bitch who drives me nuts!
It's so wrong that I could come up with that. I liked my mother and miss her every day. Not all moms are cut from the same cloth, though. :P
no subject
Date: 2007-06-09 05:51 pm (UTC)Thank you for doing so, though. It resembles my mom oh so much unfortunately :(
no subject
Date: 2007-06-12 10:28 pm (UTC)Sorry I didn't write this in time for you to send it in your Mother's Day card. I guess there's always next year. ~_^
no subject
Date: 2007-06-11 03:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-11 08:20 pm (UTC)