Don’t Let Me Be Lonely Tonight
December 31st, 2009Tis the season. A time for friends, family, celebration, reflection… Normally this is a time of year where I get sucked into the joys of giving, the joys of drinking, the joys of eating, and sometimes, the joys of a New Year’s one-night stand. Sigh. Not this year.
My family isn’t big on spending holidays together anymore. My siblings are married with kids, so they tend to spend the holidays with their in-laws. My father is newly remarried (again), so he’s off gallivanting with my latest stepmother. (Yes, that was sarcasm that just dripped off this page.)
Which leaves my mother – who is sick. I think we know where this is going.
My mom just had surgery. Semi-serious surgery, enough to be concerned about, and enough to require a family member to be present at all times to care for her. So I, being the only single child in the family, was chosen (okay, I volunteered – I’m weak) to spend the holidays taking care of my mother.
It wouldn’t have been so bad, except for one thing. On a good day, my mother is, to put it nicely, difficult. In excruciating pain and doped up on pain meds? My mother is, to put it nicely, a fucking pain in the ass. But she’s my mother, and I love her, so I sucked it up and came to take care of her – FOR TWO WEEKS.
Here’s how it’s going so far:
Mom (yelling): “What are you doing?”
Me: “I’m getting dressed.”
Mom: “Oh.”
2 minutes later…
Mom: “What are you doing?”
Me: “I’m brushing my hair.”
Mom: “Oh.”
2 minutes later…
Mom: “Are you bringing my breakfast soon?”
Me: “Yep, going to do that right now.”
1 minute later…
Mom yells, “What are you doing?”
I know, I know, you’re saying that’s not bad and I’m being a whiner. Well, that conversation goes on about 67 times a day. The rest of the time, she’s moaning and crying in pain, which does make me feel sorry for her. For about 5 minutes. Then my head becomes a Lifetime movie where I daydream about smothering her with a pillow. Then I feel sorry for her again – and ashamed of myself – for about 2 minutes.
And then there’s what I call the “So You Knows”:
“So you know, I only like the small forks. Don’t bring me a big one anymore.”
“So you know, I like exactly 2 pieces of turkey on my sandwich, and the cheese on the mustard side of the bread, not the mayonnaise side.”
“So you know, I like my bottles of water to be cold. If they warm up, I need you to put them back in the fridge.”
“So you know, I only like the blue flowered pillowcases.”
So YOU know, Mom, I’m not your SLAVE. Oh wait. I am.
Here’s the thing: I could complain about my mother until the end of time, but this little holiday vacation has taught me something very important: I need to start being a bitch and saying no. Okay, kidding. (Although – starting to say “no” a little more often should be on my to-do list in every area.) But what I learned is I need someone in my life. Okay, not I need someone, but I’m ready to admit I’d like someone around. I’m not saying I have to be married, but it wouldn’t suck to have a warm body next to me on a semi-regular basis.
Sure, my mom is a pain in the ass and I’m tired of the “So You Knows,” but she’s sick and in pain. And she’s alone. And as much as I like to say I’m fine being alone, what I really don’t want is to end up alone.
I guess I just made my first New Year’s resolution.
