Written @ 9:59 a.m. on 2007-11-26
Thanksgiving 07
Happy Thanksgiving!
In attendance were:
Me
B.
N.
P.
My sister, from canada, ay?
Mom
Dad
My brother, from florida
his wife
his baby son
My grandmother
Brother's wife's mom
Brother's wife's dad
Is that 13 people? It was packed. You couldn't scratch your own elbow without hitting a loved one in the nose, but it was fun. My mother does EVERYTHING herself. The house sparkles, the food is delish...and as I mentioned earlier, then she drops over in crazed hysteria followed by exhaustion. We try to help. We try to stop it. We never can.
Adding to my mother's impending nervous breakdown was my father's poor health. My brother, B. and my dad were standing at the end of the driveway, smoking and doing manly things, when my father fainted like a corsetted victorian lady. The last time he did this was in April. They don't know if its seizures, or blackouts, or what, even though they have tested him through and through.
911 was called, and all of the neighbors came out to stare at us, and my father was helped inside. He told them he wouldn't go to the hospital on Thanksgiving, and after a couple of days of rest, he was a-ok. We still don't know what causes it, but he recovers, thank god. From his bed, he told me,"Well, here's another reason not to build the house up north..." No comment. He didn't come down for dinner, and the next day he was in a very nasty mood, but after that he was reading Peter Pan to the children, and scrubbing the mildew off of my old building blocks so that the baby could play with them.
This whole situation caused my mother to go on many drives to have secret cigarettes, but who can blame her? She seriously gets more beautiful every year. I don't know how she does it. Now she has her white hair in a long, angled bob, and paired with her Katherine Hepburn trousers, she looks so sophisticated.
I got to spend lots of time with my nephew, who is 18 months old, and cute as a button. He speaks his own language that only he can understand, and he gives long discertations in his native tongue. He is a musical genius already, and bangs on different things around the house, listening for the best tone. Everyone is horrified that apparently his doctor told them not to give him fruit because it disturbs his digestion...everyone slid him fruit on the sly, much to my brother's frustration.
At long last, B. got to meet my best friend, and her husband and son, down from Vermont. Pablo was there, too, and we had a late night, after thanksgiving get together that had me in tears from laughing so hard. My friends are all eccentrics. It's the only way I like them.
I must have looked truly pathetic in my dreadlocks, because everyone in the family was giving me money. It was an early christmas miracle. My rent this month will be paid, even after the gapping hole my ex left in my budget. I am so grateful!!!!
BoSo has been on my mind, but I still haven't contacted him. I pray for him and his family, still.
B. has had three shows since last I wrote. Saturday was HIS show, from his federation. It was nearly a disaster, with hourly hyperventilating phone calls reaching me in NY, but they PACKED THE HOUSE! They had to set out extra chairs. That was great news. All is well that ends well.