So she called me Monday night. I’ve been dreading it because I knew it wouldn’t go well.

She told me Brittany called her and said she might try to visit because Mom had to turn her car in before it was repossessed.

I said “oh really? I’m surprised she called you.”

Mom wanted to know why…

“Maybe because the last time you visited her in the hospital where she’s fighting FOR HER LIFE you proceeded to bitch about YOUR current financial situation and even asked the poor girl when she was going to pay back the $500 you loaned her years ago. It’s not about you MOM, it’s about Brittany. Anything and everything she’s done before is NOTHING compared to what she’s going through now.”

Mom responds with much whining and crying about how SHE always helps people and SHE always gets screwed. That she’s in a hard spot too and nobody seems to care.

JEZUZ FUCKING CHRIST, what a selfish bitch.

“Mom, there’s a hell of a lot of difference between her getting a sudden diagnosis of STAGE 4 MELANOMA of the lung and you having YEARS to plan ahead for the day your husband dies and leaves you broke. Did you think to save even a dime for the last 10 years?”

Nope.

“You made choices Mom, Brittany has no choice here. And it’s beyond tacky cruel to lay any of your issues on her right now. I’m so pissed at you I can barely speak.”

Well that shut her down a bit. Then came the whining if I was going to cut her off like Beth does.

“No, I’m not my sister. I’ll get past it but I’m not happy with you right now.”

And when I told her we all were planning on going to Florida in late May she used her little oh-poor-little-me voice and asked “Are you *sob* going to stop by *sob* and see me?”

Don’t ask me that right now.

I’ve learned a couple of things about old people after being here almost two weeks:

• You must wave at everyone you pass on the road, and talk to complete strangers like they already know what you’re talking about.
• Gossip (the thing look down upon most of your life) is expected now that you have to seriously watch your friends for dementia and odd behavior.
• There’s a certain fascination with watching “The World’s Dumbest…” ALL DAY LONG.
• They’re always cold. Some are funny, some are crotchety, some are pretty cool but they’re all always freezing.

It’s funny the difference between my Mother’s society and my Father’s. Mom’s life revolves around meals/gossip with friends and TV at home. Dad gets out more, hanging at the American Legion a couple nights a week where there’s decent live music and liquor and his Saturday afternoon poker game. Two different approaches to being this age and they’re only a few months and a few miles apart. He just seems so much younger than Mom.

Someone kill me before I get this old.

I’ve been made her executor. Had to be reminded that it doesn’t entitle me to execute her, though the thought has crossed my mind a time or two.

She bought a crap cell from Walmart last year and forgot to buy minutes for about three months. It sits in a drawer. “It’s too hard to figure out!!11!!Y” So I got her a new cell phone and added her to my family account. We’ve spent a few snippy hours going through the basics and I remind her every time we go out to bring it along – to get her into the habit. Tonight she went to the 7-11 for coffee and didn’t take it. I know this because the house phone rang and she was calling me to see if I needed anything – using the 7-11 phone. So now we’re REALLY going through and learning all about the phone.

FRUSTRATION!

Is it really that hard to learn how to use a low-tech, barely a phone cell phone? Am I so over-techie I can’t relate? It’s fucking 2011!

I also let her know she can turn off her computer. She hasn’t touched it since I was here last November but it’s still on and flashing all it’s annoying lights. What a waste. I’m not sure I have the patience to tackle learning the computer too.

BTW, you can’t put a 100 watt bulb in a 60 watt socket and expect it to last long. I’ve swapped out a few around here.

Then there’s the collecting of soda can pull tabs. She has hundreds of people collecting soda can pull tabs for her all over the place. Everywhere we go someone hands her more. I explained about Snopes and how the whole pull tab story is bullshit, but she’s convinced turning them in someday will give someone free dialysis time. Whatever, I’ll let her have that dream.

I’m going nuts here.

So I’m here in Florida again. Mom flew me out here to help her clean out Orc’s stuff. So far we’ve cleaned out their bedroom closet and a smaller closet in the guest room. Weirdly, she has lawn and leaf bags big enough to use as body bags and we’ve filled two with mostly his clothes and some odd linens. There’s another full bag I took out today (dragged, rather) of trash. This morning we worked on their bathroom and gathered another regular trash-bag full of stuff.

This woman has enough shirts in her closet now to wear for an entire year. I cannot get her to sort through her own clothes while we’re at it. All of her paperwork is piled on the dining room table and I’ve been nudging her to plow through it and sort. I cleaned up the far side, but she gets snappy when I try to get “in her business.”

We both remember her saying “Oh, there’s my marriage license” in the last couple of days but now that she needs it (for social security) she can’t find it.

Not quite Hoarders as the rooms are all wide open, but there are the beginnings of piles here, there and everywhere. I don’t even want to talk about the kitchen. Pretty sure every food item is old, old, old because she eats out EVERY meal. EVERY.

But we’re getting along okay. I jumped on her because she often tries to take something out of my hand – like some 74 year old women can carry or move something easier than I can. I made it quite clear that I know when to ask for help and that my EX used to do that shit all the time to make me feel helpless. I hate it. I think she got it so we’re good.

What’s really funny is when she’s Mrs. Judgy McJudgerson it’s all good, but when I make a snide comment she stick up for them and tries to make me feel bad for judging them. I’m going to work on that this week too, though she’s never heard the name Judgy McJudgerson so I need to come up with a different pointer.

Hanging in there.

Spent a couple of days at Dad’s until I just couldn’t stand the fleas anymore. Poor old guy. For whatever reason they don’t bite him so he didn’t notice how bad it was. I have flea bites on both legs and arms and across my chest. And Casey had to repair the toilet in the back bathroom too. Dad never uses it so the old thing just crumbled from the strain of all of us. Apparently all the guts just disintegrated.

• Dad is watching Hannity. I get extra points for keeping my mouth shut.

We’ve never agreed politically. We just don’t talk about stuff because every time he opens his mouth I cringe and laugh and he’s so damned serious about his opinions! Republicans.

We spent a couple of days at Mom’s too. She mentioned she had a TV in the trunk of her car so Casey tried to install it for her, but she decided that flat screen wasn’t big enough so they traded up. This comes from a woman who is so old school she never even had a VCR.  Oh right, there was a new DVD player to hook up too. And what is the only DVD she bought in preparation for it?

• Someone kill me. Mom is jamming to Gaither Gospel Hour Christmas in the Country. Seriously, how did I come from these people?

Mom likes gospel. When the fuck did that happen?

We went back to Dad’s to finish up fixing the toilet:

• My father has provided my children with moonshine. Things are getting more interesting.

Strange night. Dad was uptight that I’d posted that and I tried to explain that anyone who follows me doesn’t care and would cheer them on and that nobody is going to hunt him down for breaking the law. Moonshine law? Who the fuck cares? Casey and Ginnie weren’t impressed by it anyway so after one drink we left. No, I didn’t try it.

As tourists, we went to the beach and watched these guys try to dig out a backhoe that had tipped over. Kira played (hands and feet) in the cold gulf water until she turned blue and we finally left. The next day we went to Mote Marine and saw sharks and turtles, jellyfish and a dead giant squid, manatees and dolphins. Kira’s convinced the dolphins were talking to her. Driving to Mote we passed some sand sculptures that had been there a while. Lots of pictures in my flickr feed so check those out.

Did another elderly breakfast thing. You have to do one of these sometime. You sit at long tables and eat stale donuts while they do park announcements, introduce visitors, sing some old songs and raffle off prizes. Three of them. Casey won $7 and Ginnie and I both won SBA dollars. Luck of the draw! Quaint. Casey went out to Bingo with Mom one night and to a casino on another.

The kids think Mom is great! She’s funny and nice and pays for everything, but they don’t have the history I do. Can I forgive and forget the years of verbal and physical abuse, being told everything I do is wrong and stupid, the sarcasm… and just accept her as she is now? I don’t know. My sister holds a grudge like nobody’s business but when it’s convenient for her she acts like nothing happened. I don’t think I hold a grudge as much as hold people accountable for their actions. If they own up I’m all about forgiveness. Food for thought.

Bill is the same, blows up in nastiness at the slightest provocation, hates black people, yells at Mom over his own inadequacies, etc. She keeps saying this or that food will kill him and I keep suggesting she let him eat whatever the hell he wants, preferably that which will kill him, hello?

• Raining again. The so-called sunshine state has sucked for sunshine this whole trip.
• Son, convinced Krystal is White Castle, has sidelined us in a cheeburger frenzy. After tasting, I’m not impressed.
• Interesting name for a salon: Whack-A-Do.
• 24 miles and we’re in Louisiana. Kids are debating New Orleans on a Friday night. It’s 40 degrees and raining so I vote no.
• 100 miles to Texas. Can’t wait! I just LOVE Texas! /sarcasm
• fucking Texas has the women’s potty locked for the night.
• Found potty. Switched drivers. At mile marker 822 now. *sigh*
• I’ll be passing @aranel13‘s house in a minute, too early again. Should we kill time til she wakes or fuggedaboudit?

So we left for home on Friday. Casey and Ginnie wanted to stay longer but Kira and I were done and it’s my goddamn car. We tried to meet up with @aranel13 on the way back through the Houston area but apparently she sleeps until noon or something. Hey, it was 8am this time instead of the 6am on the way out but still not late enough. We stopped at the Alamo for a while but drove straight through the rest of the trip.

• I miss my friends. Almost out of Texas and should be home late tonight.
• 50 miles to AZ! So tired. Love having multiple drivers.
• Quick shopping stop for fireworks at Borderline Outlet. Guy closed early so I called him and he reopened. Yay Droid!
• Hello Eloy. You look familiar. I do believe we are getting close to home.
• Home.

ob⋅li⋅ga⋅tion

–noun

1. something by which a person is bound or obliged to do certain things, and which arises out of a sense of duty or results from custom, law, etc.
2. something that is done or is to be done for such reasons:
to fulfill one’s obligations.
3. a binding promise, contract, sense of duty, etc.
4. the act of binding or obliging oneself by a promise, contract, etc.

I’ve been cataloging and making decisions about my own obligations lately. I’m obligated to pay my bills. I’m obligated to make sure my kids are set up in the world, but to what degree? I’m obligated to continue podcast editing, which I actually like doing. I’m obligated to maintain a connection with my mother due to a (not deathbed per se as she wasn’t actually near death just succumbing to Alzheimer’s) promise to my grandmother.

Mom called last night and bitched and moaned about some woman she knows. The woman for all intents and purposes is going senile. I mean, bringing your pillow and blanket to the casino and wearing a bra on your head… these are obvious signs, right? Anyway, Mom feels obligated to entertain the woman’s fantasies, to answer the phone the 437 times a day she calls, to make sure she eats, etc. Why? Because no one else will? How is that your obligation? And once you take it on, does that let everyone else off the hook? Isn’t it your own damned fault for taking on people you don’t have to, so quitcherbitchin. Mom tends to do that, take on needy people and then bitch the whole time. Martyr much?

What obligations should we choose to take on? How many obligations have you taken on in your life that turn into burdens? I know the whole care for your fellow man thing, but when you don’t get anything but misery out of it isn’t it time to let it go?

I’m obligated to pay my bills, but I get something out of that. I’m obligated to raise the children I chose to have, but (and this is what I struggle with) when is that day-to-day obligation over?

This process of finding ME is taking a long time. Shedding obligations is a major part of it and I’m finding it really hard to dump the last few.

** The following is an approximated and condensed version of the conversation I had with my mother last night, 1 am her time.

Phone rings, my mother’s ring tone.

Me: Hello?

EM: Is Buck there?

Me: Um, no, he’s not available at this number ever again.

EM: Oh, uh, this is his mother-in … er I mean ex-mother-in-law. Do you know where I can reach him?

Me: And this is your daughter if you don’t recognize my voice by now Mom.

EM: Oh shit, you dumbass! What the hell are you doing?

Me: You called me, Mom. And why am I the dumbass? And why are you calling Buck in the middle of the night?

EM: You didn’t call me for Mothers Day so I thought I’d call you.

Me: Bullshit Mom, I talked to you the day before Mother’s Day and you just dialed my number thinking you were calling my EX HUSBAND.

EM: Mumble mumble sleeping pill, how was your Mother’s Day honey?

So I told her how my day went and she moaned about her bad health and Orc’s bad health and the bills and how bankruptcy didn’t help her a lot and how she was up after taking her sleeping pill and making out bills. Blah blah how are all the kids and about Ginnie’s graduation and so forth.

EM: So what did you do for Mother’s Day?

Me: Mom, go to bed. And don’t mail out those bills until you double check them tomorrow.

EM: What, you don’t want to tell me what you did for Mother’s Day?

Me: I already did, which is how I know you really need to go to bed.

I never did find out why she was calling the ex. She always did like him better than me.

Let me preface this with a reminder of how much I can’t stand my mother.

That said, due to a promise I made to my Grandma years ago, I still have to call and get along and try to be nice and all that shit. Fakery fakery fakery, I detest thee. But a promise is a promise.

Anywho, Mom and her Orc husband recently went through the whole bankruptcy process. It was official in December if I remember correctly . . . who pays attention? This man had bucks when she first got him so I blame her for own excesses. And I admit that this nut didn’t fall far from that tree either. Whatever. The whole family knows they went through this shit. She still has her home and they still lease a new Buick every other year so I don’t feel their pain.

Come to find out, at some point they gave his niece a credit card in his name and promptly forgot all about it. Until last month when Sharon reported she was over $14 THOUSAND in debt and couldn’t pay it so it was his problem. Bullshit. She couldn’t have let them know earlier so they could put it in with the bankruptcy paperwork? Selfish cow.

Now Drama Mama is crying and moaning that the credit card company keeps harassing her daily for payment. Seriously, she’s crying. “Mom,” I says between sobs, “They can’t do shit. Stop answering the phone. It’s a credit card company. Stop answering their calls. There is no debtor’s prison. How many years do you have left to need good credit for anyway?” (I’m such a nice daughter) Yes, she needs to deal with this somehow, but save the hysterics for someone who can actually do something to you.

Take the bitch to court. Tell her to start selling her shit and make payments. Don’t let this cow take advantage any further. I really don’t know much about this legally, but isn’t that some sort of fraud? If they didn’t make any of these purchases, are they really responsible for a grown-ass woman’s debts just because his name is on the card? Even if they are, won’t a small claims (or if $14k is too large for small claims, is that civil court?) make Sharon pay Orc if they prove it’s her debt?

Either way, stop blubbering. It’s not like they have your car hostage. Oh . . . that’s me !

So then my Mom calls last night to whine at me. Like there’s shit I can do for her across the US. Gee, she’s overspent her load again and owes someone (Insurance co? Tax people? Who really listens) like $2k and has to pay them soon. I tell her I’m not in the mood to hear about her financial problems when I have plenty of my own. Then we trade shit back and forth:

Mom, I’m lying on a blow-up mattress in my almost bare living room.
But Debbie, the Bingo gods are against me! I haven’t won in weeks!
Mom, I have $11 in my checking and $7 in my wallet.
But Debbie, I have to start paying taxes! (whine)
Mom, I have an empty fridge and Casey didn’t pay me last week.
But Debbie, (whining is beginning to hurt my ears)
MOM! I can’t help you. My whole check went to pay my bills and get my water and cable turned back on.
Debbie, why do you need cable? Didn’t you plan better before you left Buck? You’re so irresponsible with money, I swear I don’t know where you come by that.

SILENTLY SCREAM FUCK YOU MOM IN MY HEAD.

Well, I planned for normal circumstances. I just didn’t budget car repairs. I’ll catch up eventually.

So then she’s off on my bad habits and how her Orc-husband nags her about moving stuff upstairs (they’ve always lived in mobile homes, go figure) and how she has to take him to the Dr. today for his Cancer shot. I refrain from pointing out that if she skips his shots he might die sooner. He’s making medical history staying alive THIS long. She’s back to me and how I need to make that son of mine pay up and how I’m such a doormat. After that we’re back to her and how they have to go out to dinner with their “group” and then she’s going to Bingo and how she’s cutting her Bingo back from 5 nights a week to two. Unless she wins. And how my Aunt Pat and Uncle Jack are coming in next week on vacation and she can’t afford to buy them food (shit the whining is starting again) or take them out.

You know what her favorite line is? THINGS ARE TOUGH ALL OVER. And yet I can’t bring myself to say that out loud. I’m either too wimpy or too polite.

Or simply a doormat.

Saturday: Watched all but the beginning of Zathura for the first time. Glad I never paid money for it, but it was a cute little movie. Then I wandered westward across Mesa looking for yard sales as I must get something safe for Kira to sleep in when she’s at my house. No such luck. I think its too late in the season for yard sales. Its just too hot already. Got to Draco Vista early, around 11 so I chatted with Kris and Lorrie and Eliza for awhile. After Winging It – more about the Wingin It thing in another post – I went over to Casey’s to pick up Kira and she wasn’t there. I’m supposed to meet Ben to pick her up. Great. I get to the meeting place and I get the baby and one bag of stuff. I get home and all that’s in the bag is diapers and formula and one bottle. No toys, no blankets, no clean clothes. So I called Casey and he says he sent everything with Ben the night before. Oh well. Out come the plastic measuring cups, the old fashioned stand-by toys. Buck went out so it was just Kira and I for the night. She was a happy camper and when it was time for bed I plopped her on Buck’s side of the bed so he slept in Ginnie’s room.

Sunday: Played with Kira, fed her scrambled eggs and cheerios, watched Catch and Release (Kevin Smith stole that whole movie) and Music and Lyrics. Took Kira home to her guys. I wonder if Casey’s roommate had a clue that with Casey comes Ed, Mikey-O, Derick, and assorted other less-than-stellar but still fairly nice guys. Its like three-to-six men and a baby over there!

Anyway Mom calls from the hospital. She’s in because the doctor thinks she’s at the beginning of heart failure. They’re running tests for a couple of days and then she’ll know. So we’re talking and she mentions going to Brittany’s graduation ceremony last weekend and then snidely that Dad couldn’t go because of some card game he just couldn’t miss. On and on about how SHE would NEVER miss anything THAT important with any of HER grandchildren and how pathetic . . . blah blah. So I gently point out how she chose to go to bingo the Sunday afternoon MY children and I were baptized so many years ago. Dead silence. I pointed out her husband at the time Ken, my Aunt and Uncle and various friends attended. More dead silence. She says she doesn’t remember. The reason I stopped talking to her back then. The reason for almost two years of no contact until my Grandmother made me promise to make up. And she doesn’t remember. Typical.

Okay, so it doesn’t matter NOW but it was important at the time.