176: Obituary - my lovely cousin

 I wrote earlier about the tragic loss of my cousin. She was, by far, my closest 'person' in the family - my supporter, the only one who suggested that I was of some value. I hoped to be and was asked to speak at the funeral.

I was asked to say a few words and took the precaution of putting them down on paper, as the awful reality of standing here and having to say them makes it difficult to focus.

Like many of you, I imagine, I am expecting Mi. to burst through that door any second. A little frazzled, probably late – and late because of issues with her hair! But then that throaty laugh, a hug … and away we go.

I am her cousin, her brother, as she used to say, and in emails and letters, Goofy to her Minnie. Though we grew up separated by continents and oceans, I like to think that we also grew close. I have a bucketful of memories to keep me smiling but I cannot believe that we will not have the opportunity to make more, and that we will not share the journey ahead – you always a little in front of me!

We were seven or eight and up in the hills north of the capital – a little town. Mi. forced me on to a horse – a horrific experience. She trotted off on her’s while I lay flat and clung on for dear life – my father running along on one side and my uncle on the other. Looking back, her father must have been in a quandary – does he stay with me to stop me falling or go after his daughter who has disappeared up some by lane in an unknown town! I never forgave her!

Teenage connection was limited but it all started up again with college and adulthood. I heard about sororities and sisters and spring break and Daytona. She started work at the same time as me and I got letters about snowstorms and adverse weather – which led to higher show ratings!! In the nineties I used to have to go to Kansas for work, much to the East Coaster’s amusement, and generally found a reason to stop by here for some critical meeting or other – but really to spend time with Mi. I visited the TV station and met H., spent a Thanksgiving together, often woke up at odd hours as time zones when calling were never Mi.’s strongpoint!

We travelled together to visit our grandmother. Once, she was fiddling with her hair and a cabin baggage landed on her finger – rather than her head. We laughed because a doctor on the plane verified that all was ok but said he was only a doctor and didn’t know how to make a sling - a nurse usually did that!!

On one of the visits,, I met W. for the first time. In the two and a half decades since, I never heard one word of unhappiness with you, W.. She always spoke about how she had lucked out with you and thanked you for fighting for her. She spoke so warmly of the wider At. family who provided emotional support and the sheer physical presence that we could not. I heard about Sh. – her ‘sister’ here. And, of course, her beloved daughters who completed her and of whom she was so immensely proud.

To them, and the rest of us, a poem by Christina Rosetti: 

Remember

Christina Rossetti - 1830-1894

Remember me when I am gone away,

   Gone far away into the silent land;

   When you can no more hold me by the hand,

Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.

Remember me when no more day by day

   You tell me of our future that you planned:

   Only remember me; you understand

It will be late to counsel then or pray.

Yet if you should forget me for a while

   And afterwards remember, do not grieve:

   For if the darkness and corruption leave

   A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,

Better by far you should forget and smile

   Than that you should remember and be sad.

 To my friend, my supporter, my confidant, my cousin, my sister, take good care – I will miss you deeply and remember you always but, in turn, do not forget me either - we have work to do. Love you. 

175: A Good News Story - a Marriage; and a future

(My son is in the revision period of some big public exams and it is a long 4-day weekend here. I am not that busy but am not undertaking leisure activities (going out for golf for instance) so that I can appear to be working and role modelling good behaviours!!!. Seems wrong of me to be having fun when he is studying. So, there might be a few more entries in this diary while I have some spare time!)

This weekend I was supposed to be travelling north for a good friend's wedding - but, following my father in law's death - am staying down south with my son as my wife has flown to be with her mother, brother and rest of the family.

So, P..

She was the one I wrote about in Entry 37: The One that Got Away I was in love with her and, I suppose, I still am. Another prescient friend of mine asked me a few months ago whether I had been affected by the news that P. was getting married - or had I assumed that she was someone who would 'be there' should I get to separation from my wife.

And, look, yes, I admit I did have a glitch when P. first told me that she had 'found a fella' and, in turn, she mentioned that she had struggled to find the right way to tell me. Because I believe she, from time to time, may have had a soft spot for me as well - but we never explored that, though we may have hinted at it now and again. I still have the card where, while congratulating me on my marriage, she joked about who she would spend time with in an old people's home - and we often joked about knitting socks together in our golden years! 

But all that does not matter any more as I am now at a stage where I hope to 'be alone but not lonely'. I have no wish to think about someone else and I do not want to let anyone else down. And it's not all self-deprecating and modest. As I wrote when a friend of mine opened up to me and told me she found me attractive, 'to place an ounce of my happiness into someone else's hands and to be even minutely, formally accountable for someone else's is now beyond me.' 

In this context, I met up with another friend of mine the other day. She is in her late forties, divorced early from a marriage that was not working and is now in a relationship again. One that pretty much models what I might have wanted - independent, separate places, companionship, sex, travel and, I suppose, a loving environment. Sounds ideal, non?

Probably, and I am very pleased for her. However, she told me a story that - later on - reaffirmed where I want to go. She is a strong academic and a feminist. So, her partner really worked his way round and agonised and explained the thoughts behind giving her a Valentine's Day gift! It was a funny story, of course it was. But why should one partner have to agonise over this? Give a present if I want, not if I don't or forget - don't worry about things, just know that there is love and security underneath it all.

Anyway ... back to P..

She and I shared a house some twenty-five years ago and, even then, her mother was not very well and nor was her father - her close sister also then began to suffer from a degenerative illness. So it was that, when her mother and sister passed away a few years ago (her father had died some time before), after 16 years, she finally had time to herself. 

P. is the most lovely person - warm, kind, hard working. And to see the universe paying her back generously is to see virtue rewarded - and I wish her and her husband all the luck in the world. Take good care mate! xx

174: A Very Sad Death

Been a week now since a very beloved cousin passed away - probably by taking her own life. She was - by far - my closest connection in the family. I looked forward to growing old alongside her. She was going to be my support if / when I decide to leave my wife. But she is now gone.

M. was my cousin - only ten months older - and we, I believe, came to be very close. For a quiet, reserved, not so confident person like me, M. was outgoing and vivacious and absolutely full of life. She had her downs, and depression and drama were constant companions, but she was my hero in so many ways.

And, of course, despite our closeness, there is still an inside and an outside. The dramas that I saw and sometimes was part of were in a continuum that stretched over decades. And that would have been tough on her husband who supported her throughout and her daughters. She, never once, spoke ill of her husband and so I can only assume that he is what he appears to be - a good guy, attentive, who tried his best. Of course he will live with regret with what he might have done differently on this one occasion and she might be alive. And that goes for all of us.

My counsellor always asked me about 'feelings' and this past week I have been trying to look outside in while going through my emotions. Her leaving has surely left a hole in my heart. She was my confidant and someone I could speak to about anything. Through the nineties - as young adults - we met very often and exchanged real, proper letters. Long before I learnt to be open and share with my friends, M. was my outlet. 

Through married life, things became a little tougher as my wife really did not like M. - similar to how she made life difficult with other female relations and friends. One tiny example. One pancake day - mid-nineties - I had invited my friends home, saying that I had found the biggest lemon ever; I had misread and it was in fact a grapefruit!! On hearing this story M. bought me a set of coasters with pictures of lemons on them. Of course, like cards thrown away or a cup with 'Friends' written on it given to me by a dear (woman) friend disposed of, these were put in the bin. Except that I had given a couple of them to my friends as a memento of the story, and one of my friends still has is some thirty years later - he has his, I do not have mine. That is a microcosm of how she felt about my cousin. 

Definitely, I had to maintain a distance for fear of having to manage issues at home post-marriage but M, and I remained close. When issues reached peak discord, my wife wrote to M. to tell her how terrible a person I was, presumably trying to break the bond between us. I asked M. to reply as if she were responding to a friend and not as my supporter - and to ask any questions that she might have of me. And she did, and I never confronted my wife about going behind my back.

And, for sure, M. had her weaknesses. She was self-referential and even selfish sometimes. More seriously, she simply could not leave her past behind and appreciate the present that she had helped to build. But read comments and tributes and speak to people and she built this huge community of friends and supported so many people who adore and love her.

Her mental trauma and depression were not 'weaknesses' but an illness. And that, in the end, destroyed her. It will always be a matter of regret that I didn't contact her more, that I did not realise the gravity of the situation better - we were exchanging messages even the day before she died. On the Wednesday, she had stopped on a bridge in Boston and thought about jumping, but been stopped and taken to hospital. If I had just happened to call on the weekend - where was my famous instinct? Bollocks.

At the same time that I write about the rawness of her leaving, I appreciate the pretentiousness of it - from not helping her enough. And I worry about my son's exam results - so how much do I really care? And would things be different if the externality of my wife did not exist. These are unknowables.

In the end, she is no longer here. Love you M., always.

173: Shouty - a chat with my son - and hypocrisy again

 I confess I cannot even remember the topic now but a couple of weeks ago she was once again in her shouty mood and went on and on and on about something to my son. Perhaps I intervened, perhaps I did not, I cannot remember.

But, later, I had a chat with my son. 'I know,' I said, 'that mama loses her temper and can be difficult. It tires me out too and my mother was somewhat similar. Do the simple things well - wear your slippers, have your fruit - and you know the best solution: work hard at your studies, do well and escape.' (one day I will tell him that that will help me too but not just now!!)

And I remember asking whether a minor fault deserved such heavy reprobation (Entry 170). So, she has bought this flash, new car and that's great. We come back from somewhere in the morning and I come into the house first, leaving her to lock up the car as she is doing something.

Later in the day she asks where the keys are. 'You were locking up.' We look some more but can't find them. 'Maybe you left them in the car?' I ask. 'Oh, yes,' she says. And, indeed, they are still in the £29k brand new car.

In the evening I ask, gently, that I hope she told herself off for leaving the keys in the car. I know what would have happened if I had done so. 'You are callous, that's a brand new car, someone could have just walked up and driven away with it, how can you be so stupid etc. etc. etc..' I make no further comment of course.

The lady Philippa Perry is a really good 'agony aunt' in the Guardian and I remembered this column. I particularly like the last line - 'you can change how you react to them or you can leave.' 

I have tried and tried and tried - leaving is the only option if I am not to survive in a living death. And while I had thought that I would wait until our son turns 18 and, hopefully, away at university, I am not sure I can now last that long. 

Our son is in GCSE year and so I will try not to disturb the equilibrium till the summer but can I really wait another two years until school ends?

There was also this other article - by Eleanor Gordon-Smith

I suppose 'hate' is a rather strong word but I have been there and when she is in one of her moods, that is where I return - no hiding that truth. We have so much and yet why the stress and the tone of voice that appears to catastrophise every little fault - as long as it is not her's. And this passage was impactful for me: 

'I think one way we get misled is by thinking the emotional pendulum of anger has only two resting places: loathing (self-defeating, tiring, preoccupying) and forgiving (beatific, peaceful, unburdened). As long as we think those are our only options, we’ll deny ourselves those more productive kinds of hatred. We’ll bounce between two ways of being unhappy: feeling the hate but being consumed by it, or trying to quell it and feeling walked on.

There is a place to rest between these positions – something I think of as “disinterested dislike”. In it, you don’t think about these people, but what you think of them is roughly “yeuch”. You usher thoughts of them and their vices out of your mind, the way you’d reach to mute the TV when a politician whose voice you don’t want in the living room comes on air.

Aiming at a more detached disliking is a less Herculean emotional feat. You will let yourself preserve the parts of your emotion that just feel true; these people aren’t helping. You won’t ask yourself to change your mind about them – you’ll ask yourself to change how much of your mind you give them.'

Living in the same house as husband and wife and parents to our son, it is not quite so easy, but this is what I try.

172: Happy New Year - at the end of 2021

Here we are, December 31st, 2021.

A year of Coronavirus - today is New Year's Eve and I wonder what the new year will bring.

Home life is ok with occasional eruptions of the volcano.

Our son is in his big year of public exams (GCSE) and he did very well in his practice exams - except for one paper in English Literature in which he was very poor.

These things happen but, of course, for a while it was as if the sky had fallen in.

But, then, we spoke to the teacher, understood the situation, he did a re-test and there was calm. She also appreciated how well he had done in the others and how he had shown resilience in performing well in the others when Eng. Lit. had been his first exam.

So, why, I asked her, could she not hold off on the anger - why erupt first and row back later rather than take the time to understand, reflect and coach?

But, overall, it has been fine. And so, what I am about to write may well come across as petty.

Close friends were coming to dinner on NYE. Generally I like to contribute to these things and, in the past, have often done all the cooking.

This time she decided she would make all the dishes and not allow me to do anything. Now, I can cook but I am no cook - and I do not have the patience for recipes. So, the unspoken message was that I do not cook very well and that the only way I could be useful would be to take the rubbish out and lay the table. And, even there, there was micro-managing.

Is that being unnecessarily conspiratorial? No.

When I have cooked everything, she has laid the table and all and I have not micro-managed as we had a division of responsibility.

Did she say, 'look, you have cooked the last couple of times, I will do it this time.' No, it was clear that I am rubbish and the best thing I could do would be to step aside.

I can handle that - no problem. And I see no need to fight against it - her choice.

The last bit to do was to make the rice. I suggested a measure - a certain number of handfuls per person. 'No, just let me do it.' 'ok,' I said. Clearly I could not even get that right!!

It seemed very likely to me that she was over-estimating and, in the end, there was way, way too much rice. Of course I did not say, 'I told you so' - though I would have been told in the reverse scenario.

So, in small things and large, I let go, I do not push, I do not counter the aggression when it comes - except when it might damage our son.

Therefore, while life is peaceable enough, I am reminded most weeks of what life could be without the stress of drama. And the desire to escape remains.

PS January 3rd: Dinner this evening. I had suggested I make a dish using some of the rice. 'I will make risotto.'

I go to tidy up a little and wash the dishes in the sink. 'Just do what I tell you to do.'

Well, you know, if I am that useless, just increases the argument for her to be better of alone!!

171: Continuation from 170 ... nothing big

Re-reading my blog, I came across the last entry - and something similar happened the other day. 

I was doing the dinner for our son and, by mistake, I had not moved some clothes that were drying in the kitchen. 

'Why couldn't you move these?' 'It would have taken a second.' 'You don't care because none of your clothes were drying.'

So, not only was I a complete incompetent rather than forgetful, I was also looking to get at her specifically and my actions were deliberate. Bollocks to this.

Ten minutes later, she is suggesting - all bright and bubbly - that she and I go out for dinner the following night as our son will be at a friend's in the evening. It takes me a while to 'come down' from being told off and some of that maybe shows in my response ... 'we don't have to go if you don't want, just say so,' she says. We go in the end.

I had to drain some peas for our son's dinner. Not noticing a strainer, I used a cheese grater that was to hand. 'Why are you doing that?! What if I want to grate some cheese?' 'But, you're not and I can wash it.' 'No, that now needs to go to the dishwasher. How stupid are you? How can you have such a low IQ? Who does this anyway. Your father was right - you are all technophobes.' And all in that shouty voice. 10 minutes later, I've gone upstairs, not reacted and it's all bright and bubbly.

She says she will wake up at 7 am the next day to get ready for work. At 8:25 am I knock on the door as she sings away to herself in the shower - I have to get ready for my work. 'Oh, sorry, I turned off the alarm and fell asleep. Anyway, I must have needed the sleep.'

Do I say, 'you are so callous. You said 7 am and I planned accordingly. How can you be so lazy. Just like your parents can't arrive anywhere without being an hour and a half late - so that is how you behave. Complete selfishness.' No, I don't - life's too short and what would be the point anyway. 

Another common trend is this obsession with saving little bits of money - not using a paid parking spot, not renting deck chairs on the beach - while being profligate with rather larger sums of money elsewhere.

She has been working for the last year. She did offer to pay the school fees for our son with her salary - it would have taken up all of it. But I suggested that she save that instead and it could be our holiday fund or maybe she could get a car - something material as reward for her labours.

A year down the road, she is about to spend almost £29k on a small (Mini) electric car. Absolutely not value for money. And that is fine. It is a luxury but there is nothing wrong with that, it is exciting and it is her money.

But I suggest that our cleaner - who earns £12.50 an hour - should get a modest pay-rise and the response is, 'no, she has to ask first.' Over the corona lock-down when the cleaner could not come, she initially objected to my suggestion that we continue to pay the cleaner's wages even though she was not coming - but later agreed, to be fair.

Situation remains relatively calm but, boy, am I tired.

170: My fault but is it just me ....?

 It's been really quite pleasant lately.

Now that travel has opened up partly as Covid eases a little (perhaps), she flew off to India to see her parents and brother - which she had not been able to do for almost two years.

Good mood on return, no aggro. with our son. A few days before she left she was quite bitchy about some topic to our son - I forget the topic - but he seems to be able to shake it off. I had been more upset by it and been sulky for a few days as a result.

So, yesterday she stomps upstairs and berates me outrageously for not having locked the back door. My fault entirely and not the first time, I have to admit. But the criticism is bordering on vicious. I do not debate, I do not apologise, I just stay silent. 

In the past, I have pointed out that she has left the keys in the front door all night - sometimes I have not mentioned it  - but I have never admonished in the tone that should, by now, be familiar to me. As if I had deliberately left the door unlocked and what a complete and utter incompetent for having done so.

When she has messed up in some way - as we all do - in the past, I have from time to time joked whether I should scold - yes, scold - her as she would us, just to make the point that anger is not always required or justified.

In the end I went to bed telling myself off for the amnesia that I appear to be guilty of all the time. Not for my not locking a door but her ability to be vicious and superior and just all round dramatic and unpleasant. Why do I forget? Why do I - after a small amount of sulking - genuinely overlook the faults and am pleasant and playful? 

That was last evening - this morning it was all bright and chirpy and good morning. The bitchiness never happened. It is as if I should forget all those moments of unpleasantness and rudeness and just live in the moment. How does someone do that? Tear a strip off and then carry on as if it didn't matter / never happened. The Confrontation story again. How does anyone even speak to another like that? No one has the right to speak in that fashion - but it is in her nature.

Well, if we are to stay together, there is no point in being unpleasant I suppose. But I am tired, so very tired - and angry for my naivete in forgetting / believing in something better. 

My situation is dire but not threatening. But is it parallel in some small way to an environment of harm? 'This time it will be different, this time we have turned a corner...', except that we never do,