:: Mothers don't let your sons grow up to be assholes ::
As the last entry would suggest, I had a doozy of a post lined up for y'all. It wasn't 'angry' as one unnamed individual suggested...in fact, it was God-damned hilarious.
Or was going to be, until Friday. Now it's on hold - to be revisited at a later time. Right now though, didn't seem to be the time.
Because my grandma - my dad's mom - died on Friday morning.
She had leukemia, and apparently when you're in the late stages of cancer, things like heart attacks and other things aren't that uncommon, and that's what happened.
My dad found her in the morning, in her apartment. She hadn't answered the phone, and he went to check on her. That was their deal every morning for the past 9 or so months - he'd call at 10 a.m., if she didn't answer, he went over there.
My mom called me around 7 o'clock, from my grandma's house. I missed the call, because I was golfing, but as soon as I saw the the missed call on my phone, I just knew.
I don't know how I knew either - my parents have called me from there many times before, but I don't know why I had a feeling this time.
But I did.
I don't quite know what to say, or type, or do. I don't think the whole thing has sunk in yet. I'm not looking forward to the moment that it does.
But in the meantime I'm angry.
Angry at some of my dad's siblings. I'd call them my aunts and uncles, but since I haven't seen or talked to most of them for the better part of a decade....or longer, I don't really consider many of them family. There's only a few of the seven I know.
"Don't even get your dad started on his brother." - my mom
And one who pissed off off my dad and my family more than the rest.
My dad has an older brother who lives near Calgary. I don't think he's even spoken to most of the rest of the family in probably years. He rolls through town occassionally, saying hello to people when it suits him, but usually not.
He's arrogant, pompous, and as a kicker, pronounces his name differently than anyone else in the family - almost like he has to be different.
When my grandma died, my dad called him in Alberta but he wasn't home. He was in Victoria, visiting one of his sisters. He rolled right through town, and didn't even stop to visit my grandma.
He hadn't been to see her in years - and in the year we all found out my grandma had leukemia, he didn't even call.
Not once in 12 months.
Nice.
My dad, being the calm, don't-rock-the-boat kinda guy that he is, didn't really say anything to his brother. I guess now isn't the proper time to cause trouble, but I've never seen my dad so fucking furious.
Then he says he'll come down back into town "if you need me" to help with the various arrangements.
It's not my fight, and if my dad doesn't want to start a holy war with him that's fine. But it just made me realize how much better a person my dad is than any of his brothers and sisters.
He and my mom were the only ones through this whole thing who took my grandma to the hospital, to the cancer clinic appointment, or out for other errands. Or just to visit.
The only child out of eight.
And none of his other siblings appreciate it in the least. All they fucking do is complain. At least my grandman appreciated it, which I suppose is all that really matters. But it still pisses me off.
All I know is that, if I ever have kids one day, I hope they turn out a lot more like my dad, and a lot less like my uncle.
And I'm pretty damn thankful I'm more like him too.
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