Absurd and Askew

It's snowing here. I think this is actually our first true snow of the year, meaning it's not freezing rain or sleet or a dusting over ice. It's a real snow. The kind that makes everything eerily quiet. Even the cars passing on the road in front of my office building sound like they're sneaking by.

I don't mind snow. I hate ice, but I don't mind snow. My Blazer can get through just about anything snow-wise. It's got those huge $300 off-road tires on it and, since it's a 4-wheel drive, off-road model, it sits up higher than normal. That's why I kept it when I bought my Mustang. I know Ohio winters (and Mustangs) too well.

I'm finally able to crawl back into my blog and update the layout and start posting again. The holidays were hectic. I had some freelance work going on, my 8-to-5er was busy, too, and on top of that was everything holiday-related that needed tending.

My sister decided to spend the holidays up north again this year. Maybe it's just easier for her with gas prices the way they are, but I don't really think that's the reason. She came down to pick up her daughter on Christmas day and, as has become the norm, was just going to breeze in and out and not say boo to anyone except Mom, but that's only because she had presents to pick up from her.

I don't know what the reasons are -- I've quit trying to figure them out -- but her actions make it appear that she's decided none of her family are worth her time. She's removed herself from us deliberately (and I'm not talking about the physical move to another part of the state) and become a stranger. I haven't seen my nieces and nephew, with the exception of Taylor, in a long time. I don't even know Sadie, and now she has another one on the way whom I won't know either.

You're told to butt out, so you do, but then you lose out, too. It can't be both ways. In order to remain silent, I have to temper how much I care, and tempering how much I care means I have to put everything out of my mind, and putting everything out of my mind means I have to not think about her. There's a price for butting out -- it's indifference. So when she comes to town on Christmas day and doesn't bother to stop and say hi to me or whatever (nary a word), then I have to be indifferent or it would hurt much more than it did. The indifference is an empty feeling, but it's also a cushion, I suppose.

I'm a habitual watcher of "The Waltons" and I've finally figured out why I can watch these shows over and over again and never tire of them, and why they seem to comfort me. It's because my own family sucks and this show is the way I've always thought families should be. Not perfect, but loving and caring for one another despite the differences. Rock solid. Always there for you no matter what. I know in this day and age there's plenty of families out there who are screwed up. Our family started out okay, I think, but damn did we go downhill fast. From a father angry with me because I'd made a totally innocent decision to live with my mom after their divorce, and hence carrying false tales of me to his side of the family, to a sister who has always felt the need to replace her true family members with those of her boyfriends -- current and past. A grandmother and aunt I hardly know, and even that one I haven't quite figured out yet.

This past Christmas we got photo cards that showed pictures of my cousins' kids and my son asked who they were. I told him they were his cousins. He said, "I have more cousins than Jackie's kids?" It broke my heart. He doesn't know his family. There's so much distance (miles and otherwise) there that he doesn't know that he has a whole tree full of family out there. I'm glad Mom and Dad moved to Columbus when they got married because it provided me with more opportunities than it would have had I been born and raised in the hills of Virginia, but at the same time, I wish they hadn't made the move. It put miles between the families that are lost now. Maybe that's part of the reason I have a grandma and an aunt that I barely know.

Our most basic instinct is not for survival but for family. Most of us would give our own lives for the survival of a family member, yet we lead our daily lives too often as if we take our family for granted. ~Paul Pearshall