Saturday, April 01, 2006

Me Llamas Ramone

Today has been another stressful Saturday for me. I get stressed on the weekends because that's when family get togethers are common. It seems that my family's fortunes have really been shat on again and again, and it always breaks my heart to hear what the latest shit sandwich is. Mustard please. My 400 pound brother is________. My sick, disabled, and mental health problemed elderly father is________. My oldest sister is about to: A) loose her home B) have heart problems C) husband still won't get a job D) son is getting held back a grade E) psycho, drug addict mother-in-law is compounding the whole deal. Fortunately, my other two sisters are doing fine, but the single one lives by herself and I worry for her all the time. My mother just runs around constantly, trying to do her best to stay away from dad.

It feels as if I've taken a few glass-laced Brillo pads, lit them on fire, then swallowed them down. I'm not bowing, that's called a "Ahfak, I'm 100% Hydrochloric Acid!" stretching technique. I've got my own major life problems to deal with. I'm the baby of the family, but I'm their mediator. No one can communicate with my dad like I can, because anyone else usually runs away crying, including my 400 pound hulk of "He aint heavy, he's my brother". My dad has progressed in the past two years, but still can't lift his arms past his shoulders and still has his moments of panic and depression. At least I don't have to wheel him around anymore. Now he has a cane and likes to hit shit with it and make strangers angry. My dad was a sergeant First Class during Korea and knows how to manipulate, yell, and just make you feel small. The idea was to tear them down, then build them up. He never gets around to the last part. He hasn't been able to work since the eighties, due to all of his health problems. Or, that's what his line is, anyways.

Why did I come last and late into these people's lives? Why can't I have been born to someone else? Like, I could be feeding off of Angelina Jolies' teat right now. Hell, she's got enough to go around. The answer is simple: Even though you and yours are flawed, you still love them. I know for a fact that I'll probably be burying my dad in the next decade, if not sooner. My brother will probably come right after him, if he doesn't change his ways. My oldest sister will probably be killed off by her insane in-law ma and manchild hubby. That leaves my mother and two sisters. My mother's mother and her mother have all died with dementia, so she's got that to look forward to. As usual, my two middle sisters will make out okay. As for me, look at all the material I have to work with.

Today, I tried my best to bliss out. I went and watched some horses run around in a field. One male was getting frisky and tried to mount a mare. The mare kept backing up into him to push him off. The stud didn't get the drift until the mare gave him a swift kick in the chest. The stud ran away whinnying. I learned a lesson there.

I went to my favorite Mexican restaurant, the one with the old lady who obsesses about me. I watched an NBA game, had some food, and tried to get the Brillos to stop burning (Mexican food was not a good choice). This old chica stood there and talked to me, like I was a regular pachucco. She wondered why I don't speak Espanol, and I explained to her that I knew many bad words and had taken Espanol in 8th grade. I added that my assigned name in that class was "Ramone". She laughed and said that she would help me with my Espanol. She's going to call me Ramone from now on.

Nothing worked today, until I listened. Something about a woman's voice is so soothing. I don't care that it came from an old Mexican lady, either. The vocal patterns of a woman are so lyrical, I have a hard time remembering what they say. The music in their voice is what I hear, and that is what I needed today to quench my burning Brillos.

P.S. I could barely stand to reveal that much about my problems and my family, so please, don't ask me to elaborate.


The Grunt said...

This post will self destruct. Who knows when. Early bird special, y'all.

mona said...

Grunt- I can't think of the perfect thing to say, so instead I'll just say that you seem like a realy good person and you should keep your head up. ps.Wanna go kick a tree or something- they have really thick skin and it won't hurt.

West of the Sun said...

Take away a couple sisters and a few pounds (mine is a scrawny loonie bin) and I feel your pain.

It's nice to know I'm not the only one born to a family that makes you go hmmm.

Like a wise man said, Viva la Grunt. . .

Vera said...

thanking the gods for beautiful horses and a woman's voice that can soothe your soul for a few moments...

Anonymous said...

Sometimes all one has to do when in chaos is to listen to the background noise. Then one realizes it's not noise. I can relate. Wishing you tonnes of more Spanish tutelage from the Mexican woman.

The Grunt said...

Thanks all: Wots, Mona, Guggs, Vera. I really do appreciate the empathetic comments. It's hard for me to talk about this stuff, as it would be for anyone else. It's especially hard to do it in person, so this was a little less of a catus enima for me. I've got that stiff upper lip thing down to an art form.

I'll try kicking a tree, Mona.

I sometimes wonder if my life would make a good spinoff T.V. series of the movie "What's Eating Gilbert Grape". I just need a retarded little brother. I have a friend that could spare one of his, so just maybe...

Logo said...

Ah Ramone,
I feel ya.
I try not to think about it mostly, just call me Cleo,
just I'm the queen of...

maura said...

Brutal. Being the mediator is always tough. You're a trooper.

Women's voices, eh? Didn't realize I had that power.

The Grunt said..., Cleo. I'm glad that you feel the situation.

I mean, I'm not a pity party thrower. This is a major step for me to admit this here. Normally, I'd rather just stay bottled up, but that's where the bleeding ulcers will come from. So, I'm going to quit denying myself opportunity and step back just enough from the situation so I can practice being "selfish". You help out with something and before you know it you've invested five years of prime time. I started college at 25 because of this situation and then I think I'm done at this shit keeps pulling me back in. At 31, I was set to go to grad school (psychology, no less), then I've got to stay close to my parents to help my dad through physical therapy. Now, I'm 33.

Well, news flash, it was my choice. I'm having a hard time giving up the control of the family here, as weird as that sounds. I've kind of taken the mantel from my dad.

On the plus side, I do have a good job. I am looking to get a better one. I've got good friends, in the flesh and here:) And who knows, I might just write something big and get it published in the next year.

Maura~I'm betting that your voice is
mighty. Just don't expect men to know what's going on. Just be grateful that you can get them to do your bidding.

Longest comment ever.

Crystal said...

wow. you have this incredible way about you that allows you to write about even sucky things in a sick-humored kind of way. i hope everything gets better for ya, grunt, you deserve it. and if you ever need a woman's voice, you can always call me.