Just back from a visit to The Park. The Rehab Center held a Memorial Day BBQ for residents and families today – Mom wasn’t sure she wanted to go, so my sister, S, and i offered to go with her. It was a well organized event. I was impressed by the staff working through some formidable logistics, moving 30-40 wheelchair-bound residents to the outdoor picnic facility, feeding and caring for them all with kindness and humor.
Mom, pictured here with her Loogie Bear – as well as a 16 oz bottle of Budweiser – seemed to enjoy the fresh air. And two plates of picnic fare.
Always the nurse, however, she only had a few sips of the beer as she was worried about drug interactions. It didn’t go to waste…
It really was a very pleasant visit. For the most part, anyway. After lunch, the three of us were chatting about life, health and luck… My ridiculously self-absorbed sister, S, managed to once again remind me that i’d done a terrible thing to her last year…
S: You know, I’m still hurt that you wouldn’t let me come up to help you when you had cancer*.
daisyfae: i understand that. But we all deal with these things differently, and i needed to deal with it on my own – with my kids. It wasn’t a big deal…
S: But it would have meant a lot to me, and helped me deal with my own cancer, if you’d let me come visit. I needed to help my sister…
daisyfae: Sorry, but it was my cancer. Maybe next time…
At this point, my tongue is developing welts. In my head, i’m gleefully shouting “Oh, i’m going to post this on the blog, dear sister, and your insane, self-absorption shall be subject to the scrutiny and ridicule of a few bored internet junkies the world!”
To keep my head from exploding avoid conflict, i got up to help the staff clean up items that had blown off tables after lunch…
______
* S insisted that i let her “help” me through breast cancer. Rather than have a “Clampett’s At the Hospital” scene, i refused to let any of them come up for my 3 hour outpatient surgery. My children and friends were on the job. No drama, just lots of “Arm wrestle you for the vicodin” , and stupid potty humor kinda stuff…
Trailer Park Refugee 
Reminds me a bit of the time my youngest sister compared her loser boyfriend heading off to county lock-up to serve his 4months for DUI (3rd or 4th offense – don’t remember. I do remember that he was caught on a riding lawn mower ’cause he’d lost his license) to my husband being in a hospice and dying.
“We’re both going to be alone, you know,” she said. “You should be more understanding.”
You don’t even want to know the context of the actual conversation because that only makes her seem retarded on top of being all about herself.
Glad to read (and see) that your mom is doing so well.
Happy Memorial Day!
i so love the beer at the rehab center picnic…. that was classic… some how i can’t picture that ever happening here in “sue happy ” california….
That’s a 16 oz beer? It looks like an institution sized 32 oz bottle. And don’t go giving me some bullshit about ‘perspective’ of the picture.
Glad your mom is out and about. Sorry your sister is a ditzoid. Glad you’re keeping your (no, i wouldn’t dream of saying ‘sanity’ ) sense of humor.
annie – seems we could put our sisters together in a room full of physicists so they could study the creation of “black holes” as they implode. Man, that’s awful…
paisley – i was delighted! They had a WWII veteran say a prayer – which morphed into stories of his service during 5 years in the Army, until a staff member reminded him to close the prayer. Very cool to see some of the folks enjoying a cold beer on a warm day!
gnu – i swear, it was 16 oz. although i suspect The Boy is going to teach her to play Edward Forty Hands during our next poker outing…
Do stop banging on about your cancer – I’ve hurt my FINGER.
[and stop making me laugh – I nearly did the elephant trick with my coffee]
You have more patience that me. I might have reached over, grabbed her by the scruff of her stone wash denim appliqué jean jacket and said, in a grinding, hushed tone…”I wouldn’t want you over for the flushing of my toilet, you self obsessed, first-life, halfwit”.
But then again, probably not.
I would just scream silently and hope for a road side accident.
I’ve also not got a HUGE craving for BBQ (or “Braai” as we call it, here at the Southern tip of Africa)
My grandfather, bless his heart, had a prescription for beer when he was at the nursing home, one I kept faithfully filled.
Yeah, I’ve got a sister or two I wouldn’t let near me if I were sick. They take after my mother. I could tell you stories about her raising seven children, and why we always hoped Dad wasn’t on graveyards if we got sick in the night. And how “helpful” she was when I had surgery at 19. I feel your pain.
“Maybe next time…”
Bite your tongue! Oh, you already did…
Poor ol’ Loogie Bear. Seems to be saying, “Help! Lemme out of here!”
DP – if you spew Earl Grey out of your trunk, you must post pictures! and then clean up the mess, of course…
dolce – great guess on the jacket, but it was a hot day, and the denim was at home with the leathers! The BBQ wasn’t all that good – frankfurters, beans, chips, watermelon – it truly was a case of “it’s the thought that counts”. i was craving ribs…
silverstar – That’s a great script! i tried to get my obstetrician to write me one for “lots of sex” when i went past my due date with my first pregnancy – it helps start labor… he laughed so hard, he never got around to writing it down!
az – i know. not a good thing to say “karma-wise”, but it did kinda shut her up. i think. i didn’t stick around to continue the discussion…
kyknoord – he is a well loved bear. in need of a good boiling at this point, but he’s a faithful companion. and he doesn’t say anything stupid. at least not yet…
It appears that you have now stolen my sister. Please would you give her back.
I was lucky – I had two younger brothers and no sisters!
MdW – i promise to send her back. having her crated as i respond. will remind the shipping agent to include some air holes and a little bit of lettuce. slow freighter ok?
archie – bet there are some festive stories from those testosterone-charged early days!
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