family

Almost Home


Crossed the border without incident Thursday afternoon and spent the night in downtown Regina with intentions to get to bed early and make the last leg of the journey home as early in the morning as possible.

Regina is unremarkable. A big enough city whose middle has been thoroughly soaked in the urine of the homeless and definitely not a place we are considering as the ultimate in root planting for ourselves. In fact aside from Lice Widow, Rob’s next younger sister, the family has mostly endeavored to escape this place. Read Full Article

Let the Melodrama Begin (or Just Continue Perhaps)


We ended up leaving my folks to stay in a hotel Friday night about nine-thirty. I suppose I could have headed the whole thing off with a bit of frank, honest conversation earlier in the day, but between trying to “let things slide off me” as Rob suggested and Mom’s bouts of tears and self-pity, I just couldn’t find the right moment.

The tipping point was Nephew and BioDad, but it could have just as easily been the exchange between my parents at supper when Mom, descrying once again her misfortune of an ailing spouse said,

“I suppose I should quit my job. After all you are my first priority.”

To which my father replied with a very hearty chuckle because it is just simply not true.

Rob sat silently next to Mom with his gaze on the table but his mind elsewhere and I don’t have to wonder what he was thinking because I was thinking it too.

I am tired of being a party to their issues with each other. Married for nearly 52 years and lucky as hell to have probably months left with which to talk and share and maybe heal some of the damage they have done to each other – they are pissing away time. Time that Will never got. Time that Shelley didn’t get either.

I excused myself to go for a run, hoping to sweat away some of the bad vibes and dark thoughts but returned to more of what passes as interaction in my family, and by the time Nephew showed up and began to issue orders, I was fed up.

There were tears and harsh words and I am certain they expected me to meekly toe the family line, but when Rob suggested a hotel – that was all I needed. So we left.

DNOS was informed via phone of what transpired because I didn’t want her walking in blind tomorrow when she goes to the folks to finish preparing for the family reunion. We would skip it and just head to Des Moines if not for the fact that we’ve arranged a tiny birthday celebration for Katy as a part of the gathering. There will be a pinata and cake and I can’t let her be disappointed just because I am having trouble following the motto of my family, “appease or deny – the truth can just stay out there somewhere.”

I am dreading the reunion. Neither of my parents are good at letting things go (small wonder that this is a major failing of mine) and though I am fairly certain they will not cause a scene in front of extended family, they will both let me have it at the earliest opportunity.

I am a bit tired of them and their games.

A Tiny Rant About Treatment of the Mentally Ill: Brother Update


If he were Britney Spears, he would still be in the hospital but because he is a 42 year old man without decent insurance (or paparazzi coverage to keep those who are supposed to be looking out for his welfare on their toes) he is wandering free tonight. Which is a lesson to us all to not allow our mentally unhealthy friends and family have a breakdown in Marin County California. The General Hospital there doesn’t feel obligated to keep suicide attempt patients for the full 72 hours if they can figure out any way to release them sooner.

Despite multiple attempts to speak with doctors, DNOS mainly got stone walled, and when she finally did get the admitting doctor on the phone he wouldn’t give her his name. The psychiatrist decided that CB was not a danger to others (which I only sorta agree with as he regularly threatened to kill us when he was a teen and his ex is terrified of him when he is having one of his “episodes”) and that he is not a threat to himself. So I guess swallowing a bottle of anti-anxiety meds and a twelve pack is not a hazardous activity on the West Coast like it is everywhere else.

CB repeatedly told DNOS that he was going to get himself released and he would try to kill himself again, but to the doctors he was cooperation incarnate. He is a masterful manipulator. I will give him that. However he is so incredibly deluded I can’t imagine that he really fooled anyone.

The truth is he is very ill and treating him after all these years will take time. Time is money in the medical community in the United States and if you don’t have it, or the insurance equivalent, you will not get the attention and treatment that you need to get better.

My parents have accepted the fact that the next phone call from California could be about CB’s death. According to DNOS, they spent supper Saturday evening planning how they would have his body shipped back home for burial. They decided cremation would be best.

DNOS is very angry with CB. At one point in a conversation with him she told him she would have to call him back when she was calmer because she couldn’t deal with his shit him. This was when he was telling her his plans to extricate himself so he could be free to try again. CB retaliated by refusing to take her calls after that and finally told the hospital not to release any more information to his family. Typical. Deliberately drawing us into his drama and then pushing us out when we don’t respond as he wants us to.

But how were we supposed to respond? Only he knows and he wasn’t forthcoming with what he wanted from us. Whatever we were supposed to have done, we didn’t.

Knowing CB as I do he could very well be attempting to kill himself right now. Or he could be fuming and foaming at the mouth about how all his problems are our parents’ fault and that none of us really cares about him at all. To whom? Good question. But CB can always find an audience when he needs one.

I hope he chooses the latter. I don’t feel like carrying any regrets that I didn’t try and figure out how to get in touch with his doctor last week when he first threatened to harm himself. Of course, the doctors at Marin General never bothered to contact CB’s doctor either, so I guess I am not the only one with marks against me.

The United States of America is no place to lose one’s mind.