Sunday, 15 January 2012
For bold and beautiful Suldog, yes, my father out-law ran himself over in his own car by doing the following: Dropping my lovely sis-in-law off for her Christmas 'do', he got rather disoriented and lost in a town he doesn't know so well. Panicking about having to get back to look after his five year old grand-daughter (the man is over 85 and she was sitting peaceably at home with her very capable seventeen year old brother in any case), he drove into an industrial estate where he found a taxi-driver sitting in his stationary car.
He did a lightning manoeuvre to drive up to this man to ask directions before he drove off. He jumped out of his manual car, not applying the handbrake before getting out, and then slipped on some ice so he was under the back of the car... Calling to the taxi-driver, while holding the car back as long as he could with one hand, the car proceeded to slowly run over his ankle.
The taxi-driver rang for an ambulance, pushing aside my pa-in-law's stupid insistence that he was all right. He was many hours in A & E. I don't know if my sis-in-law left her 'do'. I'd suspect not. He was eventually released with bad bruising. He was in fact very lucky. He is, and all evidence points to it, an idiot. Again, we were informed about this accident, rather casually by said sis-in-law, on New Year's Day. Not when it actually happened.
In similar circumstances, when she was in hospital pending the birth of her daughter - My niece - She had been abandoned by her then-husband, I was anxious for news. I had to resort to ringing her work-place, to actually find out whether she'd had the baby, or not. What does that tell you about our state of family affairs, mes bloggy silver birches?! Hein?
Disfunctional, that's what!
I've very little sympathy for him. Or even her. After years of mistreatment at both of their hands. Christmases ruined. Accusations and anger - Theirs. Madness and selfish behaviour - Theirs. Fulsome neglect of his own grand-son - My son. And making lots of efforts to put things on some kind of track with them - All mine. A few years back, I decided to put my own mental health first and I try to be dutiful, but I don't feel anything towards them and their idiocy now. I don't. They're not worth it.
Am I bitter? I was. I would have wanted some kind of relationship with my nephews, my niece. I would have wanted to be an aunt to them, like mine were to me... I valued them so, being an only child.
Instead, I am a distant auntie. They have some relationship with my son, admittedly - My nephews at least. But, even he tired of this family's antics some time ago. He has both our surnames - My son. Out and about in life, he chooses mainly to use mine. He had a magnificent relationship with my father, for which I shall be eternally grateful and thank the stars in the firmament for it.
It is a hard lesson to absorb for a teenager, I fear. To learn that your grandfather is no hero, but an idiot. And that your aunt is feckless, self-absorbed and a bit of a waste of time. I waited for him to form his own opinions on all this - He rarely heard a word from me on the subject. What he witnessed was enough for his young and fertile mind.
I started to write this post this morning, full of the stuff I have been doing lately, which has kept me from blogging for a time. Some very positive things that are helping me move along somewhat, after years of treacly grief and 'being strong' for others and neglecting myself.
Maybe I just needed these few moments, to mourn the passing of what might have been with them, and get this bile out of my system...
Sorry but, for listening: