If ever there was a man to try my patience it is/was/and always will be the Breadwinner's father, a man who seemingly finds it impossible to enjoy anything (other than shopping) and who understands so little about what life actually is and could be, his level of selfishness and lack of self awareness is a stunning tribute to the Me culture we have cultivated in this country... problem is he's not a millennial but a 70 fucking year old man...
Full disclosure, a few years back on a trip to Costa Rica i contemplated rolling him down a large and rocky hill because he was such a raging asshole, no need to re-hash the details, that said the other day i arose at 4:30am so i could drive him to the VA for another of his outpatient surgeries, he's an old combat vet who saw shit that no human should have to see in the jungles of Vietnam, he's also a devout lover of Faux News and a supporter of the Orange Shitgibbon, his grasp of facts and rational thought is minimal but he does like to yell and throw fits when he hears opinions contrary to his own, needless to say we don't see eye to eye on many (any) things, he also loves to argue though and takes some weird delight in working himself up in a lather, of course his arguments are usually based on shit he makes up and he really hates when you point out that he's making shit up... being trapped in a car can be an uncomfortable place unless you've learned the art of deflect and distract... i have mastered this technique in his presence...
So i got him checked in and then drove home so i could make the boyos breakfast and get them off to school, i waited for the hospital to call so i could pick him up and drive him back to the house where he would stay for the night... having the man in your house is like inviting in a noisy water buffalo, he's a loud and lumbering mess, he snorts and grunts and belches, he makes coughing gagging sounds for no apparent reason, he leaves the most noxious farts and shuffles off, and yet i do my best to stay patient...
The root of his problem i believe is his inability to give or receive love, he doesn't understand how, has never learned and so it's a concept he struggles with, he is a man who if asked the age old question, the house is burning down and you can save either your wife or your kids, who do you save? would unequivocally say his wife, he had an unhealthy relationship at best with his deceased wife who he claimed to adore, of course that is if adore means being a jealous, selfish, angry, controlling prick, he resented his kids for taking up her time and taking time away from him, he used his wife's struggle with weight to manipulate her self-esteem, his way of showing love when his kids were growing up would be to give them money or buy them things, needless to say the Breadwinner received very little, yet here he stays, he has four children, notice who took him to the hospital? there are few people who can tolerate and deal with him for more than an hour, for some reason the man really likes me... to quote Neil Tennant, what 'ave i done to deserve this?
In the couple days he was around he spent a good deal of time talking about his money, how this is the best year he's ever had in the stock market (an allusion to the Orange Shitgibbon), how big his dividends were, how he was a fucking savant when it came to picking stocks, i stood washing dishes and folding clothes and quietly repeating the mantra "please shut the fuck up", when i mentioned i thought my old man was a pretty savvy player, (my old man being an ex-accountant and Water Buffalo being an ex-insurance salesman) he immediately barked, "not better than me" at this point it would have been easy for me to snap at him, to be the oxygen for his burning desire to argue and fight, i laughed, he repeated "not better than me", i shrugged and grinned and carried on... not long after he was at it again, commenting on something and offering to bet some bank account he had, my reply was another shrug, his was i should have taken him up on that bet because that was another of his fat bank rolls, i countered that he wouldn't be taking that money to the next world and how much do you need? and that the size of a man's wallet has no bearing on the character or decency of said man...
And therein lies the rub, the man has spent an entire life accumulating as much wealth as he could, he has thrown money at some of his children in an attempt to buy their love and yet when it came down to it was someone else's son who took him to his surgery, who picked him up and got him food and looked after him until he fell asleep, not because i love the man because i don't... nor do i hate him, my old man taught me about things that were more important than money, call it compassion or empathy or a willingness to be kind, don't look for a reward just do it because the universe is a cruel enough place on it's own most nights, i did it to set an example for the boyos (who know full well i'm not very fond of the man), sometimes you just do things because it's right, though i'm not sure right is the proper word, maybe kind and decent are the words, i explain to them that when their old man is nothing but a memory they won't remember a thing i bought them but will think of the moments we shared and the things we did... if i could give the Water Buffalo anything it'd be one day of clear thought, to show him the things he's missed and how lucky he really was even with his relentless attempts to piss it all away, hoping that from that day forward he would take advantage of the time he has left.... instead of staring at his phone and bragging about his money...
5 comments:
you can't fix him. although not nearly as cold or self-absorbed, my mother was perpetually bitter, no matter how many nice things happened to her. i couldn't fix that. she died bitter. but we did the best we could to entertain her, distract her, feed her, comfort her, and care for her. she appreciated it, but always felt that life owed her something better.
your f-i-l is going to die just as bitter and miserable as he is today. he is the sole architect of that misery.
I understand your position but if you saw shit no human should have to see, you might have a difficult personality as well. Might've been interesting to know him before that happened. But Daisy is right. He is irreparably broken.
That dude should meet my brother. A psychotic who thinks Obama is a trator and the Dems run child porn rings. They'd have a great time.
y'all. acts of compassion = the good fight.
keep fighting the good fight, brother. even water buffalos need compassion. miserable, isolated, haunted and fucked up, I'd say more not less.
Daisy- I don't try to fix him... and you are right, he is the sole architect of his misery, i try to show him that there are equal parts light for every equal part darkness, i don't dwell or try to fix what cannot be fixed, i do what i do for him because my father taught me compassion and empathy and that you do things for people when they need help, you've read about his mother, i've been learning more, i got some neat tales on the horizon...
Exile- i understand your point perfectly, he never talked to his kids about the shit he saw in 'Nam but we've had in-depth discussions about it, the guys who survive that shit are left with questions and guilt and what not and all deserve help in working through that the best they can, i once told him the day he walked out of the jungle and got on a plane that the rest of his life should have been gravy cuz nothing would ever be like that again, how i'd wake up and kiss the sunrise, i understand it takes time to get to that but you get there... sadly everything i know about him points to the fact he was much the same before as he was after...
Kid- brother, i don't have to type it cuz you already know... look for that email soon...
You know, you've developed quite good stereotypically female traits through being around him -- deflection, diverting him away from the subjects that will inflame him -- although people like that will find problems in a lottery win. If you tried to match fire with fire it's burn out only yourself.
He deserves pity more than anything. It's so true, that people who aren't taught to love -- and that has to be the parents' first duty once the lower bits of of the Maslow triangle are satisfied. I know someone like that -- not nearly as bad as your FIL -- and it all stems from maternal neglect (her Dad fucked off when she was very young). How one learns it in adulthood I'm not sure. I'm not a psychologist but surely it shouldn't be impossible? But he's blind to the care and consideration his in-law's family show him. Well... once you can shut the door on him, just get a nice reefer going, and it'll taste all the sweeter for following such a trying time.
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