bleckblog: musings of a community college english teacher

Not writing for several days over the Thanksgiving holiday has put me into a hole. After today, I need to churn out about 2800 words a day for the next five days, which is not quite how many words I churned out today. I had some ideas to develop, but none of them went so far as I would have liked. Such is how it goes with writing. I still, though, have some major points to develop. I think I'm close to writing them up. Maybe I'll jump straight to it tomorrow, though making the time is going to be difficult. With snow on the way, I need to get some snow tires for my bike, with studs, otherwise my riding will go to hell quickly. I also need to get some other work done, such as getting a renter into our rental house (tomorrow, I hope!), Tobias to piano and, of course, the rest of my work-a-day. As of today, I'm at 36,295 words. Just under 14k to go!

December Twenty-seven Dishin and Bitchin’ blog entry

Well, P-car’s gone and done it again, carrying on her dalliance with the boyfriend’s father. I have to say, it’s got to make for an awkward holiday season, Peace on Earth, Goodwill to Men and all that. I don’t see much in the way of peace or goodwill coming out of this, but who knows, I may just turn out to be all wrong. P-car received quite the gift from the boyfriend’s father, delivered when the boyfriend and the wife were out of the way, and just before the dalliance was once again consummated. As interesting as all of this is, I wish she’d find a better way to make herself feel good about her life. Sleeping with the boyfriend’s father just doesn’t seem like it’s viable in the long term, especially since the end seems near for the boyfriend. What do you do then? Concoct some reason to visit and hope the wife will run off to the store for dinner makings? I don’t think so. At least, I hope to God not. That would be crazier than any of what’s been going on so far.

I think this is all I can write at this point as I feel like I’m being sucked into the black-hole of a screwed up relationship that is getting darker and denser with every passing moment. I’m not sure if their bodies are going to get sucked all the way in, or just the psyches, or their morals, or who knows what. But it seems difficult to imagine anything good escaping from this particular object.

28 December journal

Before heading to the airport, Grace and I met with great aunt Betty. She knew L------ before he married mother and has always had a lot of say about him, little of it good. I know I don’t get an unbiased take on things from her, but I do get a reassuring look at the situation. We met her for lunch in downtown Seattle, at the Dahlia Lounge. Grace and I had eaten there, before it moved a block and crossed the street, early in our relationship, in the early 1990’s. It’s one of Tom Douglas’ first restaurants on his own and he used is to expand his restaurant empire in and around Seattle. But that’s not why I write. It’s the conversation Grace and I had with Betty that prompted me to put a few thoughts to paper.

The first was that she always thought L----- was a jerk. And that’s a quote. It’s hard to hear someone refer to your father as a jerk, but in some ways, she’s right. It’s hard to know just what makes someone a jerk, or how one defines what a jerk is, so I had to ask Betty to tell me what she meant by that. It was one of those things that was almost impossible to get her to stop talking about once she had started. The first thing she told me, as mother’s aunt, was something I’d heard before, how when I was born he invited his parents down to visit and rather than any of them helping mother with me, he played host to them as tourists, showing them the sites, the beach, where he was working, all the while leaving mother alone with me, just a few days and weeks old, in their dinky apartment, all worn out from the pregnancy and childbirth, having to fend for herself while they went out to lunch, drove around enjoying the warm weather, and the like. Like I said, I’d heard that before. But there was more.

Something she told me was how mother had ended up hospitalized shortly before their marriage. Nobody could ever get her to tell what the problem is, but she’d gone into a deep depression and had disappeared from the University of Idaho campus. L----- did nothing to help mother’s parents find her. Once they did track her down, living in some commune just outside of Moscow, they checked her into a hospital where she was given electro-shock therapy. I’m not sure why this was the way to treat depression at the time, even the sort of deep depression she was prone to, but this is what happened to her. When she was in the hospital, not only did he not come to visit her, but he left town for a job near Los Angeles. Maybe that was when he learned she might be pregnant, with me. I guess he wanted her to get an abortion, but she wouldn’t. Instead, she pushed for marriage so they could raise the child, me, together. While I don’t think she ever came to regret having me, I do think she regretted the marriage, which started bad and seemed to get only worse.

Betty thought it was him pressuring for the abortion that set her off, and that was why he took that as an opportunity to leave her behind. I can see him arguing that it didn’t fit into his plans to have a kid at this point, that he didn’t want the responsibility that would come with it, the obligations that would tie him down, tie him to her. I think it was the tying of him to mother that was his biggest concern. Part of me can understand that, not wanting to get stuck with someone you didn’t love or didn’t want to be with because you’d had a child together. The abortion would take care of that, would have taken care of that, if she’d gone through with it. But then I wouldn’t be writing these words. Maybe that’s why he cares more for Roddy, showers Roddy with whatever he can think to offer, whether it’s a car, an endless education, or countless job opportunities and jobs. He, I assume, was better able, better ready, to enter that relationship with Alexis on his own terms. They didn’t have Roddy until they had been married awhile, so they could learn whether they would be good together. That would make for a better marriage than does knocking up and marrying your girlfriend, who’s really more of a fuck-buddy than a potential life-mate.

But it makes me think that he sees me as more of a bastard child, something to be, if not disparaged, but to be avoided, to be kept in the background, or like the madwoman in the attic. Neither seen nor heard, especially if I draw attention to his disparate treatment of me and Roddy. Betty also pointed out how pushing people out of his life is the way L----- was doing things long before he married mother, and afterward. He made it difficult for mother’s family to keep in contact with her, telling them that the help they offered wasn’t needed, when it clearly was. Betty heard more than enough from Amanda, mother’s mother and Betty’s sister, about what L----- had done to keep the family away, as if he had something to hide. My guess is all he had to hide was he was intimidated by them, that they didn’t buy into his persona, that he wasn’t nearly so great as he made himself out to be. That’s what happens when you both come from the same neck of the Idaho panhandled, where all the communities are small enough that you are bound to know one another, at least vicariously or second-hand. Amanda knew enough of L----- that she probably didn’t much care for him dating her daughter, and certainly enough to know when he was full of shit, which was a lot.

I’m going to have to wrap this journal up. I don’t know that it’s helping me much, that any of the journals are helping much. I let Grace read them so she can see what’s going on in my head, but other than that, I’m not sure I’m seeing things more clearly than if I just thought about these things. Who knows. The whole business is weird. I’m just glad Grace and I are off on holiday for a week or so. I know I need a break, and even though she’s been on the road, mostly flying, I know she’s happy for some time just relaxing and not having to worry about the joys of being a part of my family.

28 December 2005

B-----,

I was disappointed to find your message on our voicemail, especially since we had asked you not to call over the holidays. For Alexis and myself, this is just another example of how you have to have things your way, how the anger you feel towards us, for reasons we don’t understand, and that we don’t accept, clouds your judgment and leads you to do what has been expressly forbidden to do. The only answer we can come up with as to why you called was that you wanted to ruin our Christmas, that you were angry with us for not allowing you to visit this year, feeling perhaps that we had ruined your holiday, so you wanted to ruin ours by intruding on the time we shared with your brother and his girlfriend.

Roddy’s girlfriend, Portia, is a woman Grace could learn a great deal from. She is gracious, kind, considerate, caring and very giving. She has fit into Roddy’s life as none of his previous girlfriends have. She has made it clear that Roddy is her priority, that she cares deeply for him and us, that she can give of herself to promote their relationship and our family. Alexis and I have always wished that Grace could be this way, that she could put some of her reservations to rest and accept us for the caring people that we are. But instead she has put up only walls and barriers to us, and she seems to have made you into a barrier as well. At least she hasn’t pushed you to stop being a barrier to our family, to my family. If she has pushed you in this direction, it hasn’t been enough to get you out of your anger and the rage you feel toward your brother, me an Alexis. We can only hope that some day the two of you will see things as they are, how they really are, and come to your senses, get over your anger, and find yourself welcome again in our hearts and home.

You should be proud of your brother and what he is doing now. Ever since he returned from Costa Rica, after scouting out a potential kayak guiding business for us, he has been working to break into the real estate business near Portland. This isn’t easy work, especially for someone who is new to the area. I’ve put him in touch with a number of our clients who have properties in and around Portland, and still it has been difficult for him. Thankfully he has the house he was able to buy, thanks to selling the coffee shop. He put a lot of effort into that coffee shop and earned every penny when he sold it. But you disparage that as something we did for him. But it was a partnership—we bought the building as an investment and did quite well with its sale. We let him put our vision to work for the coffee shop and art gallery and he did that admirably. It’s understandable that he wouldn’t want to live in Talent, such a small town sandwiched between two somewhat larger towns. That’s no place for a young man of his caliber, which is why we encouraged him to move to Portland once it was clear his heart was no longer in the coffee shop.

Until you reach out to your brother, until your ask his forgiveness, until you apologize for the things you said, all of which will mean you first have to get over your anger over this thinking that you have been treated unfairly, that he has been the favorite, only then will you stop the harm and hate you have inflicted upon Roddy and Alexis, upon my family. And until then, you are not welcome.

I don’t know why I’m writing this, but maybe it’s so you can see your brother for the successful man that he is. Rather than your derision as what Grace called him, for being coddled by us, you should see him as someone who is making the most of the opportunities afforded him. You fancy yourself an educated and enlightened person, but you can’t see that in your brother. It all comes back to the anger that you need to get over, from which you need to free yourself. I can only hope you find it within you to seek your brother’s forgiveness.

Please, as we asked earlier, do not contact us. We’ll touch base with you every two or three months to see if you have grown to the point where we can work on moving forward. Until then, please, do not call.

L-----

Grace,

Attached you’ll find another one of my father’s emails, all because I called in order to wish them all a Merry Christmas. Once again he’s off and running on his tirade about how I, and now you to some degree, have ruined his family. I’m still not sure if I’m part of “his” family, but more and more I think not.

What bothers me about this, about him not wanting to talk to me, never mind see me, unless I come around to his way of thinking, to his way of seeing the situation, is that I’m about to lose what little of my biological family that I have left. Mother’s been dead two years now. If I were to have just one family member, it would be her rather than him any day. She never bought Alexander second-hand toys or clothes, or things he got on the cheap, some deal or another. She went out and spent her money on him, and she never had as much as he did. It’s funny how those with so little money will shower it on a grandchild when those with so much money, and time, are so stingy. Maybe that just shows how fundamentally incompatible they were. Maybe that’s why at our wedding he wanted mother to sit with your family, one your side of the aisle, so he wouldn’t have to be associated with her, maybe even with me. It almost makes me wonder why he even bothered to show up. To show Allan and Luanne what a magnanimous person he was or could be, at least in front of others?

Anyway, read his email and let me know what you think.

B-------
B-----,

I just read your father’s email to you and as usual, I’m stumped. I never quite see what he is getting at or where he is coming from. You are not to contact them, it seems for just about any reasons, and certainly not to wish them well. As usual, it seems, he, or they, want things on their terms and conditions. It will be when they decide and under conditions they dictate. That’s not a relationship, at least not one of mutual respect or accord. There seems to be something else going on, though I can’t say what it might be. Do you have any thoughts on that? What might be motivating him? Alexis? Something Roddy’s said or done? I’d sure like to know. Maybe then we could resolve all of this and get on with things. I think we’ve spent, wasted, too much time as it is. If we never see them again, it could be too soon, and I know that would mean being cut off from your family, your biological family anyway. But with that kind of family, being cut off is a blessing.

Just think, too, how they have done this with their friends. You mentioned Allan and Luanne in your email. Remember how they were on the outs for a few years, and, of course, it was all the fault of Allan and Luanne, though your father would never tell exactly what it was or is that created the rift. Something also happened with those two French friends, Richard and what’s-her-name? No more visits from those two because of some rift. And then there’s L-----‘s family, his siblings. His mother is dead and he didn’t even make it to her funeral service. His dad’s on the other side of the country and while he marvels at what good shape he’s in for his age, he visits him once every other year, at the most, and mostly bad mouths him. And his sisters and brothers, he doesn’t even know where they live or what they do, except for one of them. What sort of person just blows of his family that way?

Could it be that he’s the bastard of that family and you’re the bastard of your family that he resents you because you are, in essence, him? His own worst nightmare? I have to imagine he told himself he’d never do what his father did, have a child and essentially abandon it. Well, that’s pretty much what he’s done with you. He had you, he drove your mother away and she took you with her, which is natural enough. But by driving her away, he abandoned you. By having his parents come visit just after your birth, and offer no help, he was clearly pushing you away, making it so he wouldn’t have to abandon you because you would supposedly be the one to abandon him. That way he could be the wronged party, he could be the one to feel sorry for. I don’t know if it gets anymore convenient than that, at least not for him. This way, it’s all your mother’s fault, all your fault, but not his fault at all, never mind that he’s blown off the whole of his family and a number of friends over the years, all in the same way he’s blowing you off.

I wish I could just tell you to wash your hands off this whole business, but I know it’s not that easy. Even if it’s a shitty family, it’s your family, and it’s not like we get a choice about the family we’re born into. All I can do is provide you as much love and support as possible and see where that takes us. It probably won’t take us into the good graces of L----- and Alexis, much less Roddy as well, but as long as you can live with yourself and not make me miserable or crazy in the process, I think that will be pretty good, if only good enough.

Grace

Hey Diane, Portia here. I hate to leave you this voice mail, but you never seem to be picking up the phone when I call. L----- and I have been keeping our distance for the last couple of days, since Christmas. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to be with him, because I have, but Roddy has been hauling me all around the area to show off to his friends, as if I’m something to be shown off. Alexis seems to be looking at me differently as well, though I can’t imagine there’s anyway she could know. We’ve not been indiscreet, though L----- did reach under the dinner table last night to play a little “footsie” with me, which seemed, well, brazen. Still, I couldn’t help but be entertained by it as he slid his foot up and down my calf, wishing maybe he could slide it a bit higher. What with the tablecloth, and everyone being in stocking feet, I don’t know how Alexis could have seen or noticed anything, nor Roddy. Still, I’d like to talk to you about some things, about the offer to stay with you. I’m thinking Ill take you up on that after we get back to town. Anyway, I’ll try again later. Call me if you can, though the cell service here is pretty bad so you may have to leave a message. I’m standing out on the porch right now, holding still, trying to keep what connection I can. See you in a few days.

Hey mom, Portia here. Sorry to have to leave a message. I wish you would have answered as I’d like to talk. I’m down at Roddy’s parents, with Roddy and his parents. Christmas was okay. Roddy’s gift was a bit much, given how long we’ve known each other, but his father’s gift to me, one he gave me out of site of the other two, Roddy and his mother, was a real stunner. It’s a diamond bracelet, a tennis bracelet, even though I don’t play tennis. Some day I’ll have to figure out why they call them that. Anyway, when Roddy and his mom had run off to the store, L----- took me aside and gave me the bracelet, of course swearing me to secrecy. We then, well, made love to each other. But the problem is I’m starting to feel weirder about this whole thing, about Roddy, about his dad, even about his mom. She seems to like me almost as much as L-----, who I admit seems to like me too much. Roddy I know likes me way too much, and I’m trying to figure out how to get away from him at least. I have a friend who has offered me a place to stay if I move out of Roddy’s house and I think I’m going to take her up on her offer. Don’t bother calling back unless you want to leave a message. I probably won’t get the call because the cell service at Roddy’s parents is so bad that I am standing out on the porch right now, having searched for the strongest signal. All I got was two bars out here, but once I’m in the house, it will be nothings, which is why if you want to call, plan on leaving a message. It’s probably better that way anyway as I don’t think I’d want to talk about all this when I might be overheard. Hope all’s well and that Christmas was a joy. Love you.

Portia, this is your mother. It looks like we’re playing phone tag. The gift from Roddy’s father sounds lovely, but I have to think there are strings attached. What’s with this being sworn to secrecy? That tells me that he knows he is doing something wrong with you. I have to admit I think the same thing. You’d better be careful, young lady, or you’ll end up getting hurt as badly as it seems you are about to hurt Roddy, and maybe the whole family. Please be careful. When you have some good news, or any news really, let me know. If I don’t hear back from you fairly soon, I’ll try again. Love ya honey. Call me.

29 December

Betty,

Thanks so much for lunch the other day. Grace and I enjoyed ourselves and your company immensely. One thing we both found particularly enjoyable was what you could tell us about Marion and L----- and their early years together. Should you think of anything more to tell us, we’d love to hear from you, either a phone call or a letter would be great. Until then, we’re looking forward to seeing you again the next time we get to town.

With love,

B----- and Grace

Dear L-----,

I hope you don’t find this note inappropriate. Thank you so much for the Christmas gift. I’ve never been so flattered by any gift and I hope I’ve been able to justify the fondness you’ve shown me. Many happy returns.

Portia