And So It Begins

Twenty years ago I didn't keep an eye out to see my Aunt Margaret standing on the curb in front of a store waiting to be picked up. Today she informed me that she would not tolerate me playing with my computer when I should be focusing on her during my visit. She felt very put out to have to search the parking lot. She shouldn't be treated that way.

This is what she chose to tell me, when I told her what time my flight arrived, that rentals car prices were higher than I expected and I’d still have the problem of returning the car; could we find somebody to bring me to her house for $75? That’s not bad for a couple hours work; it’s a win-win in my book.

“So do you know anybody, whose kid wants to make $75 picking me up at the airport?” I asked again, not wanting to honor the little prickly she tossed at me.

“Did you think it was right to leave me to search the parking lot for you?” she demanded. “Margaret, I was in the fourth car.”

Remembering my side of that unpleasant day, I said, “Margaret, that’s water way under the bridge, please, let go of it. How should I get to your house?”

“I want you to know,” her tirade began. I interrupted, “Margaret, you have to have your say and then you’re going to hear the other side of the story, and so it goes, just turn it loose, let go of it.”

“I've said my piece, let go of it, is right. If you’re planning on going anywhere, you’ll need your own transportation, my truck has to ready in case I need it,” Margaret moaned. “Are you planning on going into New Orleans?”

Somehow I knew the, “You can use my truck to move your things from the storage locker,” wasn't going to work.

Somehow suspected that when she got home and felt better things would change from “I want you to stay with me” to “You can come visit me on your vacation.”

My VACATION! My friend is having surgery next week. She’s important to me. I would never have left on vacation the day before her surgery had it not been a special request from my most beloved living family member. I had happy plans for Thanksgiving; it was going to be the kind of party Kirt and I love. I was going to picture him smiling, joking.

Margaret ranted about how she has friends because she doesn't ask them for favors. She wouldn't ask her family for favors. She doesn't ask anybody for anything, if they want to do for her that’s another story.

“Margaret, I think most families have somebody who would like to earn $75 in no more than two or three hours at the most, picking me up from the airport. That’s not technically a favor; it’s fair trade, but if you can’t ask anybody, you can’t; I’ll figure it out.”

Margaret then told me that her nephew had signed a contract to help her with her doctor appointments; that I wouldn't be taking care of her in that way. She really didn't need to be taken care of at all. She would cook and clean and show me her hospitality.

I assured her that I had ambitions to take control of her. I respect her and honor her autonomy. I bought the ticket in hope of providing companionship and having some fun with her.

Fun was out; she had doctor’s appointments to worry about. That’s the last thing I remember her saying before I hung up.

Well, God, I didn't think it could be done, but I didn't think about loss or mourning or even Kirt, too much. I’m so blessed with these new circumstances, I think I’ll just go lie down.