In the middle of the evening, though, got a call from my Mom. Frankly, I figured this was the call that said Big Dad (my grandfather) was dead, but not yet. She was calling to let me know he is dying, though, that she and Dave talked and decided not to put the feeding tube back in (he's been without for four days), that he's pretty much not responsive and on the way out, probably within the week. She also asked, assuming she could get a cheap enough fare, if would I come down for the funeral.
Now, you may find me callous here, but I truly do not want to go, for purely selfish reasons. Let's start with the fact that it means travelling from here in Portland, OR, all the fucking way to Orlando, FL. Then it means dealing with four main people: Mom, John, my grandmother, and my uncle Dave.
- Grandmother is basically all but senile, and the fact that she'll tell me everything fifteen times will drive me batty. Plus, it's been a good four years since I've seen her, and probably two since I talked to her, and I'm not sure I want to go through my whole life story, over and over again.
- Dave, well, Dave's a doctor. His wife's a lawyer. They're both progressive parents, and ex-hippies-turned-yuppies. Plus, the money has definitely made Dave into an asshole. Some of the crap he's pulled, just since this shit happened with Big Dad, has really lowered my opinion of him. Plus, he's the type that feels whatever he has said or done is right, and you can't tell him different. I really don't feel like dealing with him.
- John, my brother, is a fuck-up and a ne'er-do-well, who is living down there because he's lost his license and his job and his apartment, and can't seem to get his life straight. He's about as smart as a box of hair, and ever since my parents got divorced, we've not seen eye-to-eye.
- Mom, well, Mom will be a basket case, and it's well-known that I do not give her sympathy...hell, SHE knows it, I'm her voice of sanity and rationality. Somehow, I don't think that's going to be a good combo, with me face-to-face. I don't want to deal with her, either.
Fine, call me selfish, or whatever. I never denied it.
I started to hem and haw about it, going as far as saying I didn't know, but, in the end, I told her that if she could get the tickets and make sure I was only gone a couple days, I'd do it. I think part of me figured that the cost of them, short notice and quick return as it would be, would prove too prohibitive, and I'd be off the hook. Of course, there's always Dave and his money, so that may not be an issue. but it doesn't matter. I've decided that, should it come to pass, I'll go, to see Big Dad laid to rest. The family, I can ignore for the couple days I'm there; I'll just spend the time drunk in the pool, if I have to, no one would blame me for mourning Big Dad's death.
Still...not looking forward to it.