Last night my sister called to tell me that my brother in law was going to have to go back into the hospital. He went on Monday, they gave him drugs but it’s not getting better. From what they describe, it sounds like he has an infection brewing and perhaps a few seromas. Anyway… the pathology on his tumor came back and they have no idea what it is. They are going to write him up in journals. But it’s so invasive; they don’t think they can remove it. So even though it isn’t cancer, they might have to treat it like cancer. They don’t know anything yet, but needless to say it’s very stressful. And he’s feeling like crap. And it looks like his mother’s breast cancer has metastasized. And his sister just got fired from her job because she was taking off so much time to help care for her mom. Life is just a bowl of cherries for them right now. I feel helpless to ease their suffering.

So my sister calls last night to tell me that they are going to have to take him back to Tampa and perhaps open him back up tomorrow (today). She can not take off anymore time from work and the trip to Tampa is 2 ½ hours. She can not lose her job at this point. So my mom had agreed to take him.

But of course NOTHING from my mom is ever just “given” because you have a need. There is always a price to be paid. Always. It’s like fucking clockwork.

So my mom calls my sister last night 20 minutes before she’s going to bed to basically “vent” about how she’s going to have to take my dad with her to Tampa because of his problems. (another long story) She goes on and on about my father and how his blood pressure out of control, his sugar is out of control, and he needs surgery.

How does this make my sister feel? Not good. Guilty. Needy. Sad. It sounds like my mom really doesn’t want to make the trip and she sure as hell doesn’t want to help. And it stresses my sister out.

My mom has a history of being what I can only call “an emotionally negligent mother”. She was not a good caregiver – especially in the emotional arena. We were taught early and often that if you needed something, you better do it yourself. Mom just was never there for us. In our family, my mom tells a story with pride about how she told her kids to stay outside; not to come in the house unless they were dripping blood. And there’s this story about how I sat on the front stoop squeezing my knee till blood dripped so I could come in. Mom, tells this story with amusement of course… I don’t tell her how empty that story makes me feel. How it feels like she is squeezing my heart like playdoh between her fingers. It never occurs to her that her job was to nurture us and soothe our booboos. *sigh*

My mom did not attend a single chorus performance, first day of school or a single school play. The message really was that I wasn’t valued and I was alone. I really felt emotionally abandoned. I am sure, that is why I resorted to food to fill me up where I felt so empty. Food was always there for me. Food would soothe me when mom would not – or could not — as the case may be.

So my sister and I commiserated last night. She lamented through tears her anger at feeling “dependent” on my mom and how she should know better. She was angry that she was needy. She was not only angry about the actual “trip” but more about my mom being so freaking wreckless with her emotional state to lay all this “dad stuff” on her lap when she’s already feeling overwhelmed. My mom just has no idea how what she says and does effects her children. She just can’t be there for us and it still, even as adults, angers us to the point of wanting to scream at her to catch an emotional clue.

What was really sad was that my brother in law, seeing how upset my sister was by mom’s phone call — called his sister to take him. He too is learning to not be dependent EVER on my parents. She who just got laid off, is caring for their dying mom, and has no resources… is going to drive 3 hours to his house then 2 ½ hours to Tampa just so they don’t have to depend on my parents. Because it just feels so “icky” to take from people who obviously don’t have the capacity to give.

To say I’m angry? It’s an understatement. Sometimes I wish I could choose family like I choose my friends.

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