Friday, August 12, 2016

Family Plot


Well, kids, it turns out I'm not immune to friendly (read: highly aggressive) persuasion.

You might remember that back in the dead of winter or a tad after, my not-terribly-dear father departed this earth at the ripe old age of 91. Because our hometown is Arctic, the decision was made by those members of the family still speaking to him (a hardy subset of which I was not a part) to delay his actual interment to mid-summer.

My Dear Sister has spent the better part of the time since then arranging an extravaganza the evident purpose of which is apparently to Put the Fun Back in Funeral, and she's made it clear over the past six weeks that my presence was very important to her indeed.  I had no intention of coming, but she resorted to the lowest form of guilt-tripping (yes, she was good to me indeed when I was under the knife last year, but I had no idea she would cash in her chips so vigorously I must say).

So here I am, back in Dying Post-Industrial City on the Lake, about to head up to a festive family reunion. Believe me, I would far rather be upstairs at Aunt Pittypat's with the Widow Hamilton, swigging toilet water and ragging on that wet blanket Melanie.   I drove up, my first long solo outing by car since open-heart, and it seems to have gone well. I'm lodged in a motel Sister found, part of a chain of which I've never heard - nice enough, I suppose, although the large inscription "KOCKSUCKER" carved into the stainless steel of the elevator door makes for something of a contrast with the faux-federal décor.

Pray for me. If you don't hear from me in a day or two, either I stabbed the Evil Stepmother or vice versa...

8 comments:

  1. Ah yes, some people "think that by saying 'I'm sorry,' all the past can be corrected." If I were you, I would get "very drunk, and intend on getting still drunker before this evening is over." Jx

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  2. Courage, Sugar. Think of that lovely husband and those beautiful doglings and know that living well in your own truth is not only the best revenge, it is the most savage. O! It shall eat her alive that you are happy and healthy and just So Damn Nice. Trust me, it has worked for me for years...

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  3. I, on the other hand, say take the low road and take it vigorously. Insult her to her face, behind her back and online. Drop plenty of "For a good time..." graffiti in every men's room you visit. Promise her you will carve Kocksucker on her coffin lid.

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    Replies
    1. You know, Caro, you restore my faith in humanity. You really do...

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  4. I have been very proper so far. Lugubrious dinner at once-adequate, now exceedingly faded restaurant out of the way. Still up: service, interment, funeral lunch, and festive family picnic. Sunday morning can't come too quickly.

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    1. Try freshening up the carving on the elevator doors. Even if it doesn't improve your mood, I'm sure it will amuse the desk clerks.

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  5. Why, that Peenee is a modern-day Letitia Baldrige.

    Certainly our next First Lady, Melania, could benefit from his guidance.

    Perhaps you can put him up during the transitional inaugural week, and he can get you invited to a few dinners with President Trump?

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  6. 30 some years ago, I heard the late, great, Peggy Hewitt say from the stage of The Ballroom that she had just returned from a visit to her native South and a family reunion. She drolly intoned, "Family reunions are a mixed blessing."

    Indeed, they are.

    Best of luck to you as you work you way through the family reunion that has come your way.

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