Guilt trip express — all aboard

So I get a lovely care package from Mom with a card telling me how sick my grandfather has gotten. I call her the Kathie Lee of the Carnival Cruise Lines for guilt trips for a reason!

And it’s one of those times when I can feel in my bones that I am going to regret not spending any time with my family.

Seems the combination of aneurysm, cancer, diabetes, heart disease and whatever the hell else is leading to renal failure. But he goes to the VA Hospital, which means they think he’s fine and so they send him home.

I can’t even joke that I wish I could lose 10 pounds a week like he has been. (Although the thought has crossed my mind.)

My family’s good about me being absentee at best, although the subtle “He’ll hang in there if he knows you’re coming up to see him” from Mom gets me every time.

I know I’m going to regret all the hours spent at work and not with my family. I am going to regret not finding a way to get a laptop so I can work from there because there is no one to delegate to. And I hate even driving up on a Saturday to come back Sunday; that four hours each way is really not worth the aggravation. Besides, all those errands that don’t get done during the week have to get done on weekends. If I bother — usually I don’t even get to it. (Bills? Don’t they pay themselves? My regular work isn’t going to do itself while I’m away on business doing — gasp — more work?)

I know, I know — I have more excuses than China has rice. I live and die by avoidance. I’m like my cats — I’m hiding under the rug and because I can’t see you, I think you can’t see me. Never mind that my big fat furry tail is sticking out and flapping in the breeze. 😉

Losing my grandfather means an ocean of self-guilt, sure, but also inheriting Mom. That means either moving back to Pittsburgh or finding a new apartment here to accommodate us. Which means searching for a money tree because I’m barely taking care of myself and GAWD I hope to find a permanent man before that happens.

Ever notice that it seems like men live with their parents but women take in their parents? No? Just me? I’m not saying that men don’t take their parents in or that parents don’t take in their daughters; just saying it’s a double-edged perception sword.

I can’t handle these things. Not right now. I’m not sure when. I have to be forced to face reality.

All I was planning to do today was feel sorry for myself that I was supposed to start my vacation tomorrow . Hahaaaaa. Fuck. Holy personally incurred airline fees and headaches to make myself available at work. But alas, it seems trivial now.

I wish I could ditch everything and go be with my family right now. Funny how when you’re young, you can’t get away from them quickly enough but when you’re older, you just want to escape the rest of your 14-karat fuckup of a life to go back to them. …

One Lonely Response to Guilt trip express — all aboard

  1. trouble :

    I lost my my grandma a year ago. I had a million reasons why i couldn’t fly in more than once a year to see her. But none of those reasons consoled me when she went into a coma and died before any of us could get to her.

    I will regret, for the rest of my life, not taking the time to be with her more often. I miss her, daily.

    Dawn: I know it’s hard, but there are some things you can’t replace. Your grandfather, and his final days, are one of them. There is a finite number of them, and when they’re gone, they’re gone. Nothing you can do at that point will bring them back. Don’t waste them.