Next chapter. Now March 2013, my daughter is about to give birth to her first child, my first grandchild. I have more emotions about this than can be described with the limited adjectives available to me. I could use profound, humbled, excited, or just downright happy to be present and a part of my daughter's child birth experience.
Life since my last post has, of course, changed. I had a shortlived part time with an attorney who had a hard time remembering her own name but expected me to remember everything! I have temped with a wonderful small company dealing in document management, i.e. pulling out staples, scanning, etc. (don't knock it, low stress and you get paid), and work as a subcontractor for a court reporting company. I won't be rich, but I do get a check every week! I am still not divorced, mostly because I cannot deal with something that negates the last 25 plus years of my life by reducing those years to signing a few pieces of depressing paperwork.
Today has been a defining moment in this saga, however. My husband's aunt is dying, she is in her upper 80s and the only surviving child from his father's side. I have kept this lovely lady in touch with the family by way of Christmas cards, letting her know that two of our daughters have graduated, general family stuff. I sent a watercolor I had done from a photo of her mother, asking for her opinion about it. She was happy to oblige, and has always been a gracious and friendly presence.
Mostly because of my urging, my husband planned to go and see her today. Aunt Helen is in a resthome near Clarksburg, West Virginia which is at least a four hour drive one way from where we both live. I wanted to go, and told him that even though I knew he probably didn't want me to go, I would be happy to go anyway. He proceeded to ask our three younger daughters if they wanted to go with him. Our youngest child ended up going with him, which I found out when they were at least an hour into the drive. She didn't know I had wanted to go, he didn't let me know they were leaving.
Needless to say, this hurt like hell. I had been the one to keep in touch with his family for the best part of the last 30 years. The kicker is, I got a text from my daughter telling me that Aunt Helen sent me her love. This tells me that Helen had asked where I was, and I wonder what the hell he had to say! I phoned my daughter right away to ask her to tell Helen I sent my love back. I then proceeded to text my husband, to which about 30 minutes laster I had a text in response - "sorry".
I could go on and rant and rave about this man's cluelessness, and his self-absorption, etc, etc, but I won''t! The saga continues.
