Thanksgiving: Post-Game Wrap Up

I am a bit remiss in not immediately posting about this; however, figure I might as well share it, as it IS related to the theme of this blog.

Thanksgiving. No. I did not go to my family's Thanksgiving Fuckfest Extravaganza catered entirely by Boston Market. Rather, I hosted a lovely Thanksgiving with six guests, so eight if you include us. Glorious day summed up succinctly by one of the eight year olds in attendance: "B.E.E. -- BEST. EXPERIENCE. EVER."  

I can honestly say in 47 years, I have never had that sensation after Thanksgiving with my own family. There were SOME Thanksgivings that were nice-ish, or had some nice aspects to them, but in the last 25 years, the "nice" has been ground down to an imperceptible nub.

So, I no sooner emptied the house of guests and was about to put my feet up when my mother called to give me her report of how her day went. Turns out we both had lovely days. I am not sure if this is a facade or what (on her part), but so far, my aunt and my brother both have confirmed they had a nice time, drama-free in fact! 

And of course, mom can't keep a confidence to save her life. She's got to gossip--

Mom:  "I have something I need to tell you, but you have to promise me you won't tell a soul."

Me: "Who the fuck do I talk to? Anyway--what is the deal? Did J's MS come out of remission?"

Mom:  "WHO TOLD YOU THAT? YOUR BROTHER?"

Me: "No. I kinda figured everyone in the family has been waiting the last 15-20 years for 'the other shoe to drop,' so it seemed like an obvious secret you wanted to tell me.

Mom: "Oh. And your sister said that if you were to call her, she doesn't want you to call her because his MS is out of remission."

Me: "She's got a long wait if she thinks I'm going to call her:) SHE is the one who started this great silence, not me. If she wants to speak to/with me, she can pick up the phone herself. Afterall, she started THIS, she can end this."

Mom: "So, when I die, are you going to attend my funeral?"

Me: "That's entirely up to your other daughter, not me."

/endscene

My great failure was not asking her at the time the date of the Family Winter Holiday Fuckfest. So, I texted my aunt to find out the date. She was kind of gleeful, "Are you going to it?" And I replied, "No. Don't forget, I'm Freddo Corleone." And she chimed in how we should get together again (as she did in October), and (much like my reply in October) I said, "I'll be going to NYC this coming weekend," she immediately had (yet another) excuse for not being available.

The reality is she lives the closest to me out of everyone in the family and I never see her--and she's mobile. Visiting me is not a priority. I "get" that. OWN IT. 45 minutes is not like I live on Planet Jupiter. It's a do-able drive. And I've stopped doing pop-ins (years ago) when I'd pass through her area, because why should I pop-in? She doesn't do it the countless times she's passed through my neck of the woods. This whole conditional bullshit is endemic to my mother's side of the family. 

And much in line with the excuse she had at-the-ready to decline my suggestion we meet in NYC this past weekend, also characteristic of her was the lack of an invitation for me to visit either Xmas Eve (she does the feast of the seven fishes) or Xmas Day or whatever. And that's fine. I've got plans. And even if I didn't have plans, spending the day in my pajamas, or going without pants, and drinking gin based cocktails DOES have its allure.

Twelve more days and it will be a full year of zero communication with my sister. I can intellectualize it. The waste of time. Tomorrow isn't promised to any of us. And she'd rather waste time doing this. However, I can respect it. The silence. But it's not silence. She's using my mother as a go-between. WAFFLING. I hate waffling. 

Want me in your life? Fine.
Don't want me in your life? Fine.

Shit or get off the pot. It doesn't matter to me at all.