Tears

The bipolar medication dam broke today and I finally cried because my grandma died. I couldn’t seem to get it out, even though I was truly sad, I was just…dead inside. And that’s what my dad is, I don’t want to be him, so I felt so damn shitty and…hobbled. But I grabbed pen and paper (old school really works for grief) and… I wrote a poem about grandma and her life.

It felt good to cry. Like a dam breaking. I was able to function and get done the errands that had to be done.

My stepmom called to “inform’ me they were in my yard early this morning, doing something to my car. My dad is still not speaking to me, and that was before Grandma passed. I guess my fuck up with the car battery was just something so sinister and unforgiveable he cannot bring himself to speak with me directly.

Normal families, this is the sort of thing that’d bring you together. You’d commiserate, discuss good memories, you’d hug and maybe tear up.

Not my ass trash family. I mean, my sis and I are sad, and even my mom,despite dad having divorced her 20 years ago, she still had grandma as a mother in law for 28 years and loved her. I don’t know how my man child brother is coping. He wasn’t close to grandma even before the alzheimers kicked in so much as he is like dad, I doubt he has much emotion going on beyond what society demands ‘a real man’ show.

My kid is being a spaz and saying I can’t make her (giggle giggle) go to a funeral (snort snort) cos she can’t sit still (he he he) and I BETTER NOT let my grandma’s funeral make her miss school…OMFG. If I was not related to this child, I would absolutely despise her and find her a disgrace to humanity. Yes, I know, it makes me a monster, but I just…can’t stand ego and vapidity. Even in an 11 year old. Not that I am letting her know that. I paste on the stoic face, I ooh and ahh over her Pokemon cards, and I keep shit to myself unless it’s something vital. Like her pants not fitting and hanging off so badly her crack and cheeks show.

So she starts bawling and screaming that I am verbally abusing her by pointing out that her pants fit poorly and it’s, legally, indecent exposure….

Not even a mom with no tears actually crying tears and a family death can stop The Drama Llama.

Well, my dad just drove by in his rig and trailer and blew the horn, so he’s working, literally 12 hours after his mother died.

Priorities, man. Yes, work is important, but taking one day off wouldn’t have hurt them an iota. It’s just how he copes. He focuses on anything but emotion or ya know, being kind.

I think I’m just over this rant.

I will however leave you with the poem I wrote, even though it means trying to type with frozen bedroom fingers. I wrote this about grandma and how her first husband walked out on her and left her with two small children, then she married my grandpa and had another kid, but grandpa was so jealous, he wouldn’t ‘let’ her work or get a driver’s license til she hit her forties and just…did it. Never mind his fists of fury, she finally found herself.

You go, Grandma.

————

You were dealt a hand you didn’t deserve
but you paved a new road for you and yours
you forged ahead, not looking back
living life to the fullest, giving all you had
Finding your voice halfway through your life
You backed down from no one, no challenge, no fight
You used your mind and your words
to set yourself apart
into your family and writing, you poured your heart
You loved, you lost, you carried on
yet again dealt a bad hand
from life’s cruel deck of cards
Year after year you hung in there
it was one hell of a fight
now you can have the peace you’ve earned
and finally again be
with the love of your life