Are you Shi*#ing me?

When you think you are about to die your body does two things. First, you need to shit. Next, your brain wants to shit too, but doesn’t know how to and this results in a signal sent to your heart to pump faster and everywhere else in your being enters paralysis. Said trauma also causes your inner dialogue to come out into the open and the thoughts that rush to the top of your mind are the ones that are most important and pressing. In my case, I almost died on the Highway between Manitowoc and Sheboygan< Wisconsin and this made me think about my Mom and how horrible she would feel if I had died. See, I had full tire failure on the front driver’s side tire on the Interstate and shortly after I realized I would live, my mind snapped and focused on a recent rift with my mom. My self-talk vaguely resembled the type of arguments any parents have when they were at complete odds with one another. A volley between who can be the most unreasonable so as to allow the voice of reason to win the way it needs to for calmer thoughts to prevail. The tire failure drove me to think about one thing and one thing only; Why did my mom unfriend me on Facebook and then pretend like nothing was wrong when I saw her at the Firemen’s picnic in Pembine, deep in the Northwoods of Wisconsin? How could a mother do that to a son who is social media obsessed and not even bring it up to me when she saw me? The only thing that comes to mind is that she knows I would notice and that it would hurt.
Mom: I am sick and tired of being hurt by your son!
Dad: What did he do now?
Mom He wrote a story about me, telling everyone how horrible my Taco salad is, that I still smoke and have lung disease.
Dad: He did? Where? I haven’t seen it. Did he send it to you?
Mom: Keri sent it to me, it was online!
Dad: Oh jeez, I’m sure he’s just joking around.
Mom: No, I’m so embarrassed. This is the last time I allow myself to be hurt like this. He posted on my Happy Birthday post on Facebook that he was glad I had opened my legs at least twice so he could be born. I was never so embarrassed in my whole life! I’m going to unfriend him on Facebook so I don’t have to see any of his hurtful stuff ever again.
Dad: That seems a little bit extreme, don’t you think?
Mom: No, he’s just a self-righteous asshole. How do I do this? I would normally ask Kirk, but I can’t now.

I texted my sisters Kelly and Renee to let them know about the unfriending. They couldn’t believe it. Kelly jumped to her defense by saying that she probably did it unintentionally by hitting the wrong button. Funny that had also crossed my mind, but it was then followed by Renee saying that it was probably the piece I had written about her, to which I quickly corrected her to say that it was about Dad, his heatstroke and those few hours of fear. Renee went on further to write something so insightful that I was really impressed with the depth of the response:
Renee: “Kirk, Mom knows she was not the world’s best mother and that adds to her unhappiness. She never had anyone to lift her up, to tell her that she was worth something, to raise her self-esteem and instill confidence”. I’m sure she has regrets and would like a ‘do over’. She doesn’t have much going for her at this point of her life… failing health, shameful behavior, depression, obesity, etc… Public humiliation is the last thing this woman needs. What she needs is a hug”.
I have no doubt that if my mom sees this, she will unfriend Renee too. We tried having a love intervention as a family once back in the 1990s and it became very clear then and there that if we ever tried to talk about the past again, it was going to be seen as us ganging up against her. A case of five against one. She cried and searched for even the slightest hint of criticism so she could wail out a louder cry or gasp or respond with a snippy accusatory comeback. It was useless.

Mom: The kids don’t understand all that I had to go through to raise them under such harsh conditions. My dad always took care of the boys, but never did anything for my mom and sister. We had to sew our own clothes for school for God’s sake. I actually dropped out of high school at sixteen because I couldn’t take being teased anymore and my dad said that pretty young girls don’t need to go to school, they just need to get married. And you, well, YOU were always at the bar. My nervous breakdown was because of those kids, especially Kirk. He was, and still is, obnoxious.
Dad: You can say anything you want, but I always worked very hard to put a roof over our heads and food on the table. Did I drink too much, yes, but I eventually stopped doing that.
Mom: Really? You stopped? What time did you get home Thursday night from bowling and why was there piss all over the toilet seat? Stone cold sober, right? Oh, and you forgot to mention messing around with other women all the time. That didn’t help either. I think that’s what actually made me snap and have to go to the hospital.
Dad: You can’t hang on to the past like this. We’ve covered all of this before.
Mom: No, but no one understands what I went through and that I was only doing the best I could do at the time.
Dad: That was then, this is now. Don’t let this make you sad now. Let it go Diane!
Mom: Easy for you to say. You always let everything go. You don’t care about anything because you don’t listen to me or anyone. And, you let Kirk go to France to stay with a French family, and I never got to go anywhere. Why didn’t I get to go to France?
Dad: I don’t ever remember you asking me to go to France.
Mom: That’s not the point! I never got anything. I had to put up with that same ugly green carpeting in the living room for 30 years before you finally replaced it. All the work raising the kids meant nothing to you because you were out with friends bowling, fishing, hunting and drinking all the time.
Dad: I’m not going to apologize for doing what I love to do. It’s who I am and what I enjoy. It’s good to be the King (attempting a moment of levity).
Mom: I was stuck at home the whole time with those messy, ungrateful brats.
Dad: Look, they love you and I love you. We have grandchildren now and everyone is now moving forward with our lives.
Mom: Then why can’t Kirk be nicer. He’s trying to hurt me and get revenge on me for the past.
Dad: Well, what did he say about the past?
Mom: He said I have microwaveable plates from the 1990s, that my taco salad is disgusting, and told the world that I am sick and still smoke when I’m stressed.
Dad. That’s just his opinion now and he’s trying to be funny.
Mom: No, he’s personally attacking me, that prick! (She cries)
Dad: Do you want me to talk to him?
Mom: No, it’s no use.
Mom’s mom died at the age of 68. Her sister Marlene died prematurely at the age of 68 too. In 2018, she will turn 68. Renee’s insight helped me come to the assumption that because this fact is playing in her subconscious, like a deafening loud soundtrack, she cannot, and does not, want to hear anything else about the past or the future, because she’s afraid that she will have neither soon. If Mom’s soundtrack of self-fulfilled prophecy comes to fruition than too will my time be limited to make peace with mom and get her to re-friend me on Facebook. It turns out that we’re both shitting our collective pants in paralysis, neither one knowing what to do.
