"Watch your thoughts; they become words. Watch your words; they become actions. Watch your actions; they become habits. Watch your habits; they become character. Watch your character; it becomes your destiny." -- unknown

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results - Albert Einstein

overly jaded
March 26, 2003 - 5:02 pm

last night i was sitting at a friends house watching the ring. it's the first time either of us had seen it and neither of us had much of an idea what it was about - except it was supposed to be a fucked up scary kinda movie. i really enjoy fucked up movies.

my phone rings at about 7, perhaps fifteen minutes into the movie. i look at my cell and it's my parents. i hit ignore and continue watching. granted i haven't spoken to them in about a month, but i rationalized things that if i didn't have a cell, they'd be calling me at home and i wouldn't be answering there either - since i wasn't home.

my phone rings again at about 8. the only reason i turn it off is that i get more hits to my dland page in a day than i get calls in two weeks. i look at my phone and it's my parents again.

it occurs to me that something is wrong. we don't talk for a month or more and two calls in one night? it occurs to me that my dad has a not so good heart and quite a few other physical issues.

i ask my friend to pause the movie.. and take the call.

it's my mom. my dad is currently in the hospital, the second time in six months. he had chest pain and actaully said something about it.. unlike last time when my mom caught him wincing. she was a bit worried, that was easy enough to tell. they said they were going to do some test or other thursday and perhaps put another stint in or just replace the first one - depending upon what the problem is.

we talk about. i'm feeling guilty. actaully, i've felt guilty about the whole talking thing for a bit now, but just havn't done anything about it. i'm 2 hours away and i visit as much as i did when i was 10 hours - which is basically never. i lie and say i was thinking of calling them tomorrow (that'd be today) and that i was thinking of coming down this weekend.

she probably knows i'm lieing, but nothing is said of it. i say, depending upon how things go i could meet her at the hospital or at home. i kinda hinted that i'd consider taking friday off in light of things. she says she'll let me know.

i watch the rest of the ring, saying nothing about the call i just had. typical me. i wasn't to focused on the end, which made it kinda confusing - not that it wasn't to start with. on one hand i found myself being annoyed my friend didn't ask what was up. on the other hand, i was glad nothing was asked.

to be honest, i've been waiting for the call to say that 'something happened' for quite a while now.

i find myself.. oddly upset at the idea. i say oddly becaue i never go to visit, i'm often bored to death when i do visit.. yet, the idea of him not being there to not visit seems very wrong.

welcome to the logic of my mind.

on the way home i think about things.

i recall when my grandparents passed away, his parents. i was very young when my grandfather died. i can recall driving to thier apartment and that it took _forever_ to get there - probably an hour. i recall what it looks like, vaguely.. i recall the rolls were always burnt. always.

anyway. i dunno who told me he'd passed, but surely someone did for i know and recall the story of what happened. grandma was going to cook dinner and he decided to take a nap before dinner. he liked his naps, though he never napped, he was always 'checking his eyelids for leaks'.

he simply never work up.

i don't recall the funeral at all, but i can remember thinking that if there's a good way to die, then in your sleep has to be a good way. an odd thought for a child perhaps, but nonetheless that's my memory of things.

with my grandmother, she went into a nursing home after a while. a year or two after he passed i suppose. i'm really not good at these kinds of timelines. i know she lived alone for a while. i was never taken to visit her in the nursing home. i can recall being unsure what the whole point of one was, but that it seemed a place that old sick people went and i'd been told that she was getting sick.

i recall a day where a call came in the middle of the night. my mother and father were upset and left to go to the nursing home. i was left home alone with my brother - was sixteen or seventeen at the time. i was probably about ten or eleven. i'm guessing at all this. i don't recall anyone coming to stay with us.

the next memory of things is that it's sunny, so later that day my parents come home. my mom tells me to stop playing in the yard, that i should go inside. it's a nice day and i want to stay outside. she explains that dad's going to cut the grass, so i should go inside. i remember this striking me as odd, the grass didn't look like it needed cut. i ask why is he going to cut it. she takes me inside and explains what's happened.

she explains that grandama passed away and that dad's upset. i don't quite follow how this relates to cutting the grass. my mom simply says, sometimes when people are upset they cut the grass...sometimes people do different things when they are upset.

this seems to make sense. it also relates to why i dislike cutting the grass so much. i can't think of a time that i've ever been upset enough to think cutting the grass would be a good thing.

i gather now that he just wanted to do something, to be alone and think... but to be doing something. cutting the grass fits that bill nicely. it taks away, no one can talk to you. it was hot, so he'd be all sweaty and could cry as much as he wanted.

i still think going in my sleep is the way to go.

i'm left wondering what i'll do when i find out he's dead.

i've never had a close relationship with anyone in my family. i generally describe us as strangers who share genes and gather once a year. i know next to nothing of what my brother/wife/his family does or my parents. i couldn't name thier closest friends - if they have anyone. none of them could name any of my friends or know anything about my life. i can recally a period back a few years where everytime i talked to my brother it was to say i was moving and here's my new address.

i said if my parents have friends because it's very likely they don't really socialize at all. i can't recall every having people over to my house growing up. i can see how that's affected me. i've lived here a year and, counting family, exactly five people have been inside this apartment. only two of those more than once.

i'm not saying my upbringing was loveless, not at all. we simply.. don't communicate well.

must be a genetic thing, for i've proven time and again that i don't communicate well.

i'm left with old thoughts from when i was young.. (as if i'm ancient now) about how growing up seems a very bad thing to have happen and how time is an evil thing.

without time, we'd not grow up.. we'd not grow old and ill.. we'd not fight lingering losing battles.

perhaps i'm just overly jaded.