
"Is it time to go home yet? I keep clicking these damn shoes, but nothing happens"
I heard my mobile phone ring... (it has the ring of a traditional door bell), but I was tired of
de-briefing our day... a few hours spent at my parents home. I let the phone go, mostly because I had to answer the front door, or at least see if I was going to answer the front door. (Turned out, I was not). When I called my sister back, we were immediately into our session.
Today's visit to my Mom & Dad's comes on the heels of the 3rd cancel of her planned knee replacement surgery that began in September 2008. From that point to today, our family has been trying to prepare for her recovery. She has canceled 3 times. This time, because she has a sore throat, the time before that was so she would not ruin Christmas. My sister and I secretly think this sickness was a convenient coincidence with the Inauguration of one President Obama..but I degress. Though I know and understand this cancel is for the best in terms of her health, it is still frustrating for some reason. She canceled yesterday, after all of us, myself, my sister, my brother in law made plans to be away from work and other obligations in order to be there for her... for the 3rd time. My supervisor at work simply giggled in empathy when I told her the news.. I would be in the office (except for tomorrow..for obvious reasons).
Anyway, today's visit to Grandma's was the first since my niece's birthday on the 17th. When we arrived, her grandmother had nothing for her. Nothing. The card she had was still in the Rite Aid bag that she got when she purchased it. Sitting at the dining table with my niece, grandmother tells her to go get a pen so she can sign the card. She gives the card to the new teenager and then tells her to go find 50 dollars in her purse. Then the grandmother makes a big deal out her extravagant birthday gifts. I could not bear it.
We were there for 3 hours and it was quite difficult for me to remain calm and patient. Between the birthday dismissal and the surrounding clutter, I was near my wits end. The phone call this evening from my sister was to tell me that my niece told her she could tell I was stressed out at grandma's house. When my sister asked her why she thought that, my niece said, "Well when we first got there, Auntie was walking around lightly, but as time went on, she was walking really hard. I think she shows her stress in her feet".
Classic, n'est pas?