Saw This a While Back And It Really Spoke To Me

Ramakrishna Paramhansa
‎[Post # 526]:

In the middle of 1885 Sri Ramakrishna developed throat cancer and the devotees arranged for his treatment in Shyampukur, Calcutta. Holy Mother [Maa Sharda] took the responsibility of cooking special food for the Master and some young disciples began to nurse him under Narendra's leadership. Shashi [later Swami Ramakrishnanda] would eat at home, then serve the Master at night. Shashi was then preparing for his B.A. examination. His parents had great expectations for him because he was their eldest son and a brilliant student.

Now Shashi faced a great dilemma: Should he serve his guru or build his career through study? His discriminating mind selected the first one. He stopped going home, gave up his studies, and became a full-time attendant of the Master. An old neighbour of Shashi asked him, "Why don't you serve your guru after the examination?" Shashi replied: "Sir, could you give me any guarantee that I shall not die before that examination?"

When his father begged him to return home, he replied: "For me the world and home are both like a place infested with tigers." His father even used a mantram to get his son back home, but this failed. It is said that on one occasion Shashi's father criticized Sri Ramakrishna in front of him. Immediately Shashi was ready to stab him, saying, "Who is my father?" His father was pleased with his son, and said to him, "Yes, your devotion to your guru is genuine."

What's in a Word?

Interesting choice of words in that warning.

"Fear?" Really?

FWIW, I'm taking this Rx for pretty much everything else listed,

save for the "fear."

On a Brighter Notes

There is an additional "up side" to me not having made that thankless trip to Jersey this past weekend: I get to eat the obligatory Valentine's Day chocolates I was going to bring down for my sister, niece, and my mother.

NOM NOM, bitches!

19 More Days And Counting

Oh yes. Yesterday she finally got transferred to a nursing facility. So the clock is ticking, and we've got 19 more days to find out if the nursing home/rehab will be a temporary or a permanent solution.

I broke down and called Audrey today, kept things neutral, and she was bitching about how painful the fucking Hoyer lift is. 

Have had a lengthy text conversation with my brother today. Obviously my sister bitches about me to him, and him to me. And to be frank? Between the last five years since dad died, and the final 17 years of dad's life? Yeah. I feel confident in saying I could go another 22 years without a call from my sister.

Further, she really needs to get a therapist to verbally unload. I'm tired of hearing about it, and she really needs to get on some (or better) medication to deal with the anxiety issues. She's addicted to negativity and drama like a sloppy alcoholic loves cheap booze. 

So, as is typical with Audrey, my sister calls today, and doesn't leave a message, and all day long I refused to "take the bait" and call her back. I waited until the day was just about over and texted her, "You rang?" And of course, in keeping with the fact she doesn't talk TO me, but merely vomits words AT me, AT HER CONVENIENCE, my reply has gone unanswered. And that's okay. I spend all day at work on the phone. The last thing I want to do when I am home is talk on the phone with someone who is going to just suck the ever living life right out of me. So no. She doesn't like texts? Oh well. Not my problem.

Not that I'd wish my mother's life away, but I relish the day after she's passed, when I no longer have to deal with my sister. Once the funeral is over, (if I even bother to attend), I'm pretty much washing my hands of everyone. 

What few folks are left on mom's side of the family are mostly trouble makers (with one or two exceptions, two of the three off spring of my uncle's wife, aka "The European Model" as the Maharajah calls her), my sister can have the rest of the family. My brother and I can salvage something workable between the both of us. End of story. 

The only remaining go-between for the two cleaved halves of my family would be my mom's sister, who, to be blunt? Yeah, she lives a scant 45 minutes from my home and doesn't make any attempt at all to see me or visit my home, and well, no great loss either if I lose her in the great cleaving of the herd.

31 more minutes to go until it's 18 more days on the clock...

Visual: Why I haven't visited my mother

Unrelenting...

Motherfucking...

White shit!

Yeah, lemme drive 125 miles, one way, in this shit. 

LET ME GET RIGHT ON THAT!

Conversational Nugget

(Cross posted from my other blog)

Endocrinologist to me: "You? Depressed? Srsly, I don't see it."
Me: "I'm high functioning and keep my shit to myself. I wish I were dead inside."

More Toxicity: Telephone Twattery

I've been in the process of weaning Audrey off the expectation of a daily phone call from me. Because really, the negativity is toxic, and I am not equipped for holding the hand of someone wholesale incapable and unwilling to help themselves, and serves no other purpose on planet earth than to be a BLIGHT just draining the good will of any poor soul who happens by.

So, I started out small, seeing if I could go one day without calling... then work it up to two days. Well, Saturday (as mentioned several posts back) was day THREE, and the call went thusly:

Me: Hi.
Her: Can you call me later, I'm eating dinner?
Me: (very flatly) I've been laid up in bed with a migraine all day. I'm going back to bed.
Her: Well, do your best.

Spoiler alert: I didn't call later that evening, and I didn't call Sunday.

Monday, my friend visited her (see also, post several posts back), and as I didn't get a phone call of THANKS or acknowledgement, and was thanked by her talking smack about me (which I think was a ploy to get me to call her in a rage--instead she was met with silence), I didn't call. 

Tuesday I thought I'd call, but fell asleep in front of the tube. I also happened to make a pact with a friend who is similarly afflicted with a mother of this caliber, and the pact was that we would both not call our respective mothers. Mission accomplished.

Wednesday, I had a neuro appointment close to home, then an appointment in NYC, and I spent the rest of the day in the city to shop, wander, and eventually have dinner with the Maharajah at Cipriani. I sipped a sambuca and limoncello w/tonic before dinner, before the husband arrived, to blunt the excrutiating pain in my low back. Dinner was lovely. And given the delays with the train etc, we got home after 10 p.m.

Wednesday, by the way, was DAY FOUR.  Upon arriving home, it appears Audrey finally broke down and called me.  "...I have congestive heart failure now. I could use some company." 

Well fuck you Audrey! You fucked yourself in your own ass by talking smack about me. Between my friend John and my friend Mr. P., and no doubt a few other truly kind souls, I could have arranged the occasional visitor to pass the time. But no. I have to be a hard hearted bitch now, insulating myself, because Audrey is a full on TWIN of her father, of whom I cut ties with years before he passed. You do a good deed and are met with insults. And I will state on record herein: I am not a masochist.

So today, Thursday, I know I must call. And I do. And after three thwarted attempts at calling, I turned the ringer to my phone off.

Attempt 1: I call. CNA answers phone: She's being washed, can you call back later?
Attempt 2: I call 1-2 hrs later. Mom answers: Nurses are changing my dressings, can you call back later? And when I fail to call back later...
Attempt 3: Audrey calls me. She's not getting empathy from me. Call was short. I asked direct questions, "What does the doctor say? When are you being transferred to rehab? What is holding this up?" Was met with "I don't know" and realizing she wasn't going to get the tender hand holding she wanted, she got off the phone quickly. 

So maybe, if she's lucky, I'll call again on Sunday. IF she's lucky.