Christmas Morning Dumps in These Foolish Things

Merry Christmas - ha, that title, huh?

Well, as a colon cancer survivor, I can tell you that the Christmas morning dumps are honestly a thing of beauty. And I spent the night of Christmas Eve at the Airbnb. They have installed this little coffee shelf in the bathroom:

Brilliant, no?

But that’s not really what I came here to dump.

It’s been a dreary, rainy Christmas here in Gingerland.

After I wrote yesterday’s entry, I made the coffee and did a good trampoline workout on my niece’s BIG trampoline (quite a different experience from my mini-trampoline rebounder, but SO FUN!), took the dog for a little walk at the city park, and went back to the house.

My brother was up and a little bit chatty. He talked about the nosy neighbor (she once called my dad to tell him that a woman was walking her dog in his yard - that was me!), and he told me that there was a gun under the bed where I slept the night before. There are meth labs in the neighborhood and meth heads walking around! He said some other things rather frantically and erratically. I noticed something about him that felt easier to describe than before: he is very immature - almost child-like.

I know that he is autistic in some way. “On the Spectrum.” He’s never been diagnosed, but a therapist once pointed it out simply from the way I described him and our relationship. I have never found a way to get close to him. Nearly everything he does is a repellent to me. It hurts my heart, but it doesn’t break my heart - we are past that point.

Anyway, I felt like I had a way to describe him to my parents, so I went to their part of the house where they were sitting down for breakfast, and just brought it up to them. I told them that I thought that he should be taking a bigger role in running the household, but he just seems like a kid to me who needs to be taken care of. And it was worrying me because he should be more of a support to my parents.

At this stage in her dementia, my mother doesn’t really say much anymore. She can’t find the words, but I know she feels in her heart.

But my dad told me that my SIL is so fucking unhappy. I know that she has been clinically depressed. I guess she hadn’t been on her meds for a while, but has finally gotten back on them. She describes my brother as “useless”. Dad then told me that my brother has confessed to them that she wants a divorce.

But nobody knows what that will look like because BOTH of them are clueless, to be honest. My SIL doesn’t know how to do so many things - my parents have taken care of them ALL (my bro, SIL and niece). My dad also confessed to me that since my brother can’t do any fucking thing, that HE (my dad) was my SIL’s sponsor for her citizenship! I didn’t know that before. He told me that he felt responsible for her. And my SIL can’t keep a job. She may very well be on the spectrum herself. Like attracts like, right?

NO WONDER THE VIBES ARE SO WEIRD that I can’t ever get comfortable in that house! It all makes sense.

And of course, my niece. His heart breaks for that child. That poor girl is the spawn of two very odd people with big mental deficits. I see so much potential in her, but she’s got the weird vibes too. I am sad that I have never been allowed to get close to that girl. Her parents are a combination of extremely overprotective and spoiling of her, so no letting the aunt take her shopping or overnights or anything like that. I don’t think she could handle it anyway.

Sigh.

I’m thinking that maybe I can approach my niece situation in a different way and maybe try to help her in some aunt-like fashion. Like, she’s old enough now that I might be able to come up on a weekend and start getting her out from under those two for a while. A thrifting daytrip? Something to ponder for a bit…

But my bro and SIL. I’m worried because together they are a mess, but separately, what will happen to my mom and dad?? The only reason I feel a sense of relief as they’ve taken over that house is that there are people there so that mom and dad are not alone!

Honestly, this Christmas does not feel like the worst Christmas ever - not in the least. It actually feels very therapeutic to be talking about it. Even my SIL and I had a little sidebar about how unhappy she is. I’m glad she’s confiding in me. It’s better than holding it in and feeling like a pressure cooker.

Last night, my dad wanted to open stockings. It’s become his little tradition - he loves to buy us all thoughtful little unusual trinkets and put them in the stockings, and it makes my heart explode. He bought us all these funny little magnet bookmarks which are useful and fun, but then he also bought us all these necklaces (my bro got a man-bracelet) that had these messages attached for each person. One for “daughter”, one for “son”, one for “granddaughter” and so on… and the messages made my SIL and me both cry! Ugh.

I have a lot more to say but need to get up out of this bed and do a little workout and get myself ready to head over to the house.

I hope you are having a beautiful Christmas, however you celebrate. Or not. Maybe it’s just another day for you. Regardless, lets make it merry…

xox,
GS