That would be the sound of the other shoe dropping. I was dropping a pal off after she dropped off Bear's new favorite toy** when Mother- called. She told Bear that my grandfather was in the hospital dying so I should give a call. Then she regaled him with the tale of Keith. Keith is the guy she was shtupping while he spent winter break from college at our house. The tale now goes that he wanted to drop out of law school to take care of her (her language) and she wouldn't allow it so now he has her to be thankful to (again, her language) now that's he a big lawyer in California. That and she was married to Jim about 29 minutes after her divorce to George was final, but facts don't figure hard in Mother-'s life. Bear said it was a bizarre conversation, at best. She told him how Keith was a lifeguard and built like a brick shithouse (again, her language) and how she didn't know where things would go but she was excited to see and all that jazz. So, 2 minutes giving the number for Grampy in the hospital and 15 minutes of Keith this and Keith that.
I walk in and Bear hands me the phone with an eye roll so I don't know anything. She tells me my grandfather has a mass on his kidney, 80 percent blockage of 3 arteries and his pacemaker, newly installed, appears to have a low battery.
I start to cry. Mother- says there is no need to be upset. I ask if he's going to be alright and she says, "Probably not. This is probably it for your grandfather. He has Jill there (my aunt of whom my Mother- is insanely jealous) and that's who he wants so I'm sure they'll figure out how they want to handle things. If you have questions, you should call Jim."
NOW...my mother went for more than ten years without speaking to my grandparents for some sleight, real or imagined. She thinks everyone likes Jill better because she's prettier but it really is because Jill isn't an evil witch.
Jim is her ex-husband (a critical care nurse who is fabulous at his job) who I am in contact with because he's the only father type person I ever had that wasn't a total fuckwad. She is always trying to get info about him from me. All I've spilled is that he lost 40 pounds and looks great...twist, twist.
M-: He's had a full life and he is surrounded by the people he has chosen. Did they call you (knowing full well they had asked HER to call me so they had not...)?
me: I don't know how you can be so blase about his situation but I can assure you that even if he was 120 years old, I would still be upset that he's sick.
M-: Really, Nita, he's 87 and it's silly to feel that way. This has been coming for some time now. He's an old man and his health was bound to fail. With the mass on his kidney probably being cancer and his imminent heart failure, they'll probably just let him go.
At this point I'm seething. I am so tempted to throw her overblown reaction TO HER DOG'S DEATH up in her face. Remember her reading the whole dog book and then crying about Ben? Who's been dead for more than 4 years?! And I'm supposed to just be 'okay' with my grandfather's death.
me: You're certainly entitled to feel however you want to about your father and I'm entitled to feel whatever I am feeling about my grandfather. Now, I'm going to call him and tell him I love him. Goodbye.
And I hung up. I called the hospital and got Grampy himself.
G: Hi darlin'!
me: How's it going, kid?
G: Ok. I'm going to have open heart surgery on Monday or Tuesday. The kidney business is just a thick coating of some sort, so that doctore isn't too concerned. Says we can figure that out after surgery.
me: How are you feeling about all this?
G: Well, darlin', I guess it isn't my time yet although I may pop the doc who put in this pacemaker right in the nose! Low battery? Don't they check these things?! Hahahahaha.
I wanted to kill her. At the very least I wanted to call her back and tell her if she could get off the phone with Keith for A FUCKING MINUTE and fact check before she called me she would have known what was really going on. I'm still pissed today but I didn't call her. And I'm not going to. She has shut people out of our lives ever since I can remember. She is the Queen Mother- of the grudge and the world record keeper for holding them. I am not going to speak to her for a while. I'm going to use caller ID as it's supposed to be used and she can go take a flying fuck at a donut while I try to purge this rage I have inside. Bear and Rio and the doggers really help....
My grandfather is probably going to keep on ticking. Evidently, the time bomb that was niceMother- has finally exploded. We all knew it had to end this way, right?
**On a lighter note, you'll never guess what we got for a hundred bucks and a full head of three color highlights....
Maybe I should have taken the money for doing the highlights, whaddaya think?!
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