Tuesday Ramblings

I read a good deal of blogs that are written by some fabulous women in Australia.

What I find funny is I read an entry and can sometimes assume what a certain word means by the context but to be sure I am copying and pasting into Google to find the definition. The newest one was just a name of a pain reliever. That made me laugh.
I needed that pain reliever after all the back and forth searching and reading.

It’s funny that we all speak English but the differences sometimes are huge.
I read an entry one day and I began to laugh because I had no idea what she was talking about. No translation for that anywhere. Her children are adorable so I enjoyed the photos and I just assumed it was a good story. I felt so incredibly dumb but honestly I come by these “moments” frequently as you know.

It takes me a bit longer to read and I do feel like an idiot. But I have to remember I’m learning something. If I get to go to Australia I will understand more than most American’s arriving for the first I suppose but that too is debatable. At least that is my story and I am sticking to it. Delusional works for me you see.

On a more somber note my Dad is getting old.
You’re saying to yourself, “No kidding Peg”
The last couple of calls he told me he was tired. I took it as he was working too much, needed to nap more, that type of thing. But then he added, he was ready. So I knew what he meant. He was tired and he was ready to throw in the towel. He was ready to die. What does one say when someone tells you this? I asked him why he keeps works at Wal-Mart as a greeter then. Why don’t you take it easy? Enjoy your grandkids, take a walk, read, and enjoy life. His response was “Oh I would be bored.”
I told him he deserved to be bored. But he doesn’t see it the same way.

I didn’t nag him, this is his life, a lesson that I wish he could have learned. So I listened as he told me he was ready. I can’t talk him out of it so I didn’t try. And as awful as it sounds I don’t want to talk him out of it. This is his life. I know when and if I am in that situation I wouldn’t want anyone telling me what the hell to do. I would be defiant and say it’s my life I can do what I wish. I just wish sometimes he wouldn’t share. It’s a horrible feeling. But then I have to take my feelings out of it. It’s not about me, it’s about him and his feelings. So I try to be an adult while talking to him and just listen. He’s telling me to prepare me I guess. We talked about the family. I told him I loved him and he did his signature hearty laugh and told me he loved me too.

I have had a crazy relationship with my father. But I love him. He drives me crazy. He can be so closed minded. His inability to see gray makes my head explode.
He is difficult. He was extremely tough on me as his oldest girl. He is chauvinistic and from another time. But he’s my father. He’s also funny, loving and very warm. He roots for the under dog and does unselfish acts of kindness anonymously. He has always given me grief for just about everything I have ever done in my life. He has told me my life was selfish and self consumed because I chose not to have children. But through it all I have always known I was loved. That was never debated.

A few days later I called to speak to my step mom. She told me how my father was standing in front of a frying pan on the stove just staring. She came into the room and asked him what he was doing and he laughed and made some flippant joke. She asked him if he was going to start the hamburgers and quietly he said, “I don’t remember how”
Aah, that broke my heart. It has begun.

You’ve heard me bitch a million times about how I hate getting old. This is reason number 1. Everyone you love and/or care about around you is getting older and dying. Now granted when I was only 13 my mom died. I wasn’t old then and that was the exception. But of late I’ve gone to so many family funerals and it just sucks.

After my dad’s brother died 3 yrs ago I knew he would start to deteriorate because my Uncle Angelo was my Dad’s best buddy in the whole world. Without him I knew it would be a struggle for my father. Sadly I was right. The first 2 yrs he was still mourning. He saw my Uncle daily. He was not dealing well and when we asked him about it he would get angry and walk away. Even my step mom could never fill in the gap for my father. So off to Wal-Mart he went so he could “keep busy” as he says.

So the next time you hear Oprah tell you the 50’s are the best decade of your life.
Bitch slap her for me will ya?

Dad and my sister Jennifer @ Dad's 80th birthday