It’s So My Mom.

If holidays remind you of family crises (the cousin you made out with; the brother you’re sueing; the mom you’re writing a blog about), you can relate to guest blogger and Short Change author Tamre’s Christmas card debacle:

“My family is extremely traditional when it comes to absurdly lame traditions. Such as sending out a ‘family letter’ with Christmas Cards. Usually it entails some sort of photo of the entire family together. The past few years, we’ve just done little blurbs about what’s going on individually and a photo of each person. The year my sister turned 21 we used a picture from her birthday, the two of us together posing with that little man who pretends to be a leprachaun on St. Patricks Day. So imagine my surprise when I send in my picture which happens to be from a stadium tour at Lucas Oil Stadium and this is the response I get:”

Hi Tam,
Got a copy of the photo you sent to use on the Christmas card.
It is a very nice picture of you and Patrick, but I am wondering if you have a picture of just you that we can use.
I like Patrick a lot, and when he is a member of the family I have no problem with using a photo of the two of you, but for this Christmas, I think it would be more appropriate to use a photo of just you. What do you think?
If you agree and can forward a photo of just you asap, it would be appreciated as we would like to order these cards soon.
Love
Dad

“Really? Come on. Then I had to try to find a picture that I could send them. I start scanning my myspace page - old photo, old photo, holding alcohol, photo with friends, photo with friends, photo with friends AND alcohol. Oh, here’s one at the Rathskeller 2 minutes before I almost got the crap beaten out of me by lesbians for calling them out! I had to go waaaaay back to a photo of the ‘07 Colts season where I threw a party at Fox & Hound. It looks like a senior picture. I know I’m already 2 sheets to the wind and 1 shot away from making a fool of myself playing shuffle board. I’m pretty sure I took a nap in my car after that party. Classic. The other photo was from a Reds game 2 summers ago - I’m posing with Mr. Red. I remember running in a full sprint down the concourse at Great American Ball Park to get that photo. I think I spent the night playing Guitar Hero and drinking Woody’s Ice (disgusting and we gave the rest away as a joke) at a friend’s house.”

“So my dad picks the photo from the Colts game party. At least my hair looks good!”

“I immediately get on chat to vent to Jennifer. We decide that we should take a photo of me passed out half naked around numerous bottles, shot glasses and empty beers, preferrably leaned up against some 22 year old guy majoring in Sports Management from Butler. Unfortunately, the night I end up on stage singing with a band in Broad Ripple we both leave our cameras at home. Go figure.”

Image by sheilaz413 via Flickr

I still haven’t spoken to my mom since she called Saturday morning to tell me I didn’t need to stay at home when I visit San Antonio tomorrow, because if I wasn’t going to actually stay with my parents every night, they’d just be tripping over my suitcase in my absentia. That’s apparently sufficiently annoying to tell me just to stay with my boyfriend, or friend Shanel, etc. My dad called me and told me I was welcome to stay over there. Thanks dad.

I’m sure this has something to do with her discovery of this site. It gives her reason to direct her frustration and anxiety toward me because she feels she has to pull off the holiday at my grandparents’ alone. She won’t let me help. My aunt is coming in the day of, so she won’t be of any help either. Mom is forced to pull together an entire dinner for our family while still facilitating my grandmother’s care.

Neither me nor my dad understand why mom won’t just put grandma in a nursing home. My grandmother is terminal. She cannot speak or walk, only nod and make noises. She sleeps most of the time. So why not put her in a place where she can be taken care of by professionals? My mother and grandfather wouldn’t visit her any less, of course–they just wouldn’t feel the 24/7 pressure of taking care of her all day: changing her; feeding her; doing the work that trained medical professionals should. And yes, my grandparents DO have the money.

I tried to tell my mom this last visit; that it’s well documented that people often fall into depression when taking care of their terminal or Alzheimer’s-stricken parents, and that she should shift the burden a bit to others and make sure her mental health is good. Of course, she turned to me and asked, “Is that what you’re gonna do to me? Stick me in a home?”

Well, yeah. I’ll visit you every day and make sure you’ve got everything you need. But why wouldn’t I sign you up for a nursing home if the task of taking care of you is more than I can handle? Sandra Day O’Connor quit the Supreme Court to take care of her husband with Alzheimer’s. But he was already enjoying a better standard of living–having literally forgotten about her, he found a new love in his nursing home! Not exactly the happiest of endings, but not the worst, either …