Sunday, September 18, 2005
Generations of paternal blundering
In my last post, I verbally stomped my foot at my father and his juvenile communications skills. To follow up: the very day I posted -- Thursday -- he called, but it was 11 p.m. his time, which means he was up alone and the ice was tinkling in the glass, if you get my drift. No? He was borderline innebriated -- too much so to tackle the conversation I wanted to have. Once again: disappointing, but not surprising.
So we touch on the usual banalities and go over the usual excuses for why he hasn't called (he still claims to be flummoxed by the time change...which works in his favor, by the way, and I've only lived in the Pacific time zone for almost 10 years, so no wonder he's confused...). And toward the end, he says, "Well, I wanted to tell you that your grandfather is in the hospital and he may not make it very long." I would have thought this might have been a bit higher on the conversational list, say, before telling me how the weather's been. But no.
My grandfather has lived far longer than anyone anticipated, and far longer than an unrepentant alcoholic has a right to live, to be frank. I visited him once in a nursing home, about seven years ago, and he tried to get me to sneak a pint of booze into him. The last time I saw him was 2002, and he was at a VA hospital then and barely recognizable to me. I guess what I'm saying is I have very little emotion about the apparent immiment passing of my last blood-related grandparent, and that's sad. More sad: my own father's mixed emotions and bizarre relationship with his father. He's not planning to go down to Florida to see his father, who is likely on his deathbed, and one reason had something to do with resentment his half-brother and half-sister have or something. I asked how he was feeling, and he said "ambivalent." My sister said "Dad, I'm so sad for you," and my father said, "Have you gotten any rain lately?" The man is so emotionally locked down...hmm, and I say I have no emotion around my grandfather, and I complain (especially here) about my father quite a bit, and I could use the word "ambivalent" in some sense too. Well, the Taggart Men legacy is purring right along, isn't it?
Note to the universe: tell my Dad ('cause he ain't reading this, I hope) to go to Florida, to make peace with his father and his siblings and his past, and tell him to get the fuck over Father's Day, while you're at it. OK? Thanks, that would be great.
And now, a cute picture to lighten the mood:
So we touch on the usual banalities and go over the usual excuses for why he hasn't called (he still claims to be flummoxed by the time change...which works in his favor, by the way, and I've only lived in the Pacific time zone for almost 10 years, so no wonder he's confused...). And toward the end, he says, "Well, I wanted to tell you that your grandfather is in the hospital and he may not make it very long." I would have thought this might have been a bit higher on the conversational list, say, before telling me how the weather's been. But no.
My grandfather has lived far longer than anyone anticipated, and far longer than an unrepentant alcoholic has a right to live, to be frank. I visited him once in a nursing home, about seven years ago, and he tried to get me to sneak a pint of booze into him. The last time I saw him was 2002, and he was at a VA hospital then and barely recognizable to me. I guess what I'm saying is I have very little emotion about the apparent immiment passing of my last blood-related grandparent, and that's sad. More sad: my own father's mixed emotions and bizarre relationship with his father. He's not planning to go down to Florida to see his father, who is likely on his deathbed, and one reason had something to do with resentment his half-brother and half-sister have or something. I asked how he was feeling, and he said "ambivalent." My sister said "Dad, I'm so sad for you," and my father said, "Have you gotten any rain lately?" The man is so emotionally locked down...hmm, and I say I have no emotion around my grandfather, and I complain (especially here) about my father quite a bit, and I could use the word "ambivalent" in some sense too. Well, the Taggart Men legacy is purring right along, isn't it?
Note to the universe: tell my Dad ('cause he ain't reading this, I hope) to go to Florida, to make peace with his father and his siblings and his past, and tell him to get the fuck over Father's Day, while you're at it. OK? Thanks, that would be great.
And now, a cute picture to lighten the mood:
// posted by Bill @ 10:42 PM 
