Life's Laundry: Love Is a Verb

I'm totally fascinated with relationships and the people in them. I'm a people watcher - could spend literally hours a day (if I had extra) at the mall engaging in 'people watching.' My first plan of action has always been to seek to understand the other person and what makes them tick. Once you know that bit of information you can pretty much relate to that person on any level and with any thing. I remain enthralled with most people and enjoy it. I love people but only when I can control the level of exposure and intensity. I don't do so well with the relationships closer to me; more specifically, I have a bit of trouble with my two oldest daughters and my mother in law.

Why is that?

Is the disappointment with their choices just too much for me to digest?

I love them. Some days I have to work harder at loving them. Love is a verb, you know? It's not an emotion. True love surfaces and develops when the going gets rough and we have to make a conscious choice to continue to act out that verb. Lord knows that I've had practice.

Obviously He thinks that I haven't had enough.

My mother in law recently had a lumpectomy. When she stopped by the house to tell us about it - she was less than a week away from the surgery. She had known about the lump for over 2 months and had even had two (not one, but two) biopsies done along with an ultrasound and a mammogram. She'd met with the Dr several times and was scheduled for surgery. The surgery was scheduled for the day that we were supposed to leave to go to south Georgia for me to meet with my attorney in preparation for court the next day. She had known that we were leaving for south Georgia on that day for over 2 months. Do you think that was a coincidence?

Do you think that the time that she scheduled her colycystectomy (gallbladder surgery) the day that we were supposed to go to my best friend's wedding in Wisconsin was a coincidence too? Do you think the fact that she had known about this lump for over 9 weeks but neglected to tell her son about it is something that says everything when she said nothing at all? All her church friends knew about it. She just had neglected to inform her only son. How in the tarnation do you forget to tell your child about something like that?

When she shared the news it was very difficult for my husband. It took me three days to help him sort out his fears and monkey mind thinking. He heard the word "cancer" and was immediately transported back to his experience with his late wife. His mom assured him that the cancer was early, small, self contained, etc., and that the Dr. had told her several times that he was positive that there would be "NO FOLLOW UP TREATMENTS needed." I know that I heard her say that. I know it.

Saturday evening when Pop brought J back home - we asked where B's mom was and why she didn't come along. "Oh, your moma's bad off son" moaned Pop. We are used to Pop's drama and have learned to always seek more information because either the world is all right or everything is going to hell in a hand basket - there is no "in-between" and he often over exaggerates things when he's away from her.

"Well what's wrong with her?" asked my hubby in an innocent way.

"She's got that stomach bug going around and she's tired and worried about all the markings for her radiation treatment.

WHAT THE HELL??????? Surely I didn't just hear what I think I heard? I held my breath for the poop to start flying and hoped that it wouldn't be too disastrous.

"Radiation treatment. RADIATION treatment? Radiation TREATMENT? Did you just say RADIATION TREATMENT?" I heard the anger building in my husband's voice.

Pop must have sensed it too because he put his hand on the door knob and tried to make a quick escape.

"You stand right here until I get back and I mean it. You aren't going anywhere until I get back downstairs!" ordered my hubby as he started up the stairs with a sleeping boy on his shoulder.

I just took a deep breath and poured myself a glass of wine and went into the den. What followed was well controlled on my husband's part considering the anger and betrayal that he was feeling. B gave his father a few choice words about being left out and then we impatiently listened to him moan and groan about how we "don't understand anything about real life" and how it is to grow old and worry about all the things that they worry about......... Bleck! I wanted to hurl.

Same story, different day. Their son is an idiot who still needs to be babied and protected. He's just a child equivalent to the 3 year old who doesn't have the capacity to understand anything or make wise choices or decide how to spend his money or who to marry or if to have kids or buy a house or (fill in the blank). I feel my blood pressure rising just typing this all out now.

I was proud of the way that B handled those few moments. He rationally articulated how hurt and betrayed he felt in being kept out of the loop on something so important. Pop tried to interrupt and B stopped him cold in his tracks. I remember B mentioning something about that behavior (withholding of important information) being the utmost form of disrespect and hurt that he could imagine and then Pop came back at him by saying, "You ain't got no right to feel that way."

That was like throwing gas on a fire.

"Don't tell me what I have a right to feel. Think about how hurt you would be if I was having surgery or radiation and didn't tell you about it. Suppose that we tried to hide Lynda's treatment from you and mom. Think about how angry and hurt you would have been. If she shit, you wanted to know how much toilet paper she used and now here you are telling me that I don't have a right to be angry that my own parents are withholding information about my mother having radiation treatment AFTER you told us that the Dr's said everything was fine. Don't you tell me what I have a right to feel!"

That's when I suggested that B might want to consider taking this matter up with his mom. After all, she is the one who is having the treatment, has the cancer, and runs the show. Pop is just a puppet who doesn't control his own strings.

That's not the only thing that she conveniently forgot. About 3 weeks ago B's dog (our dog) was killed on a Saturday afternoon when they (my MIL and FIL) let her out to go do her business. A car hit her (the dog) and they scooped her up and took her to the vet. She died on the way to the vet. This was on a Saturday afternoon before dinner. They didn't call my husband to let him know about her until Sunday morning around 9:30am. This was AFTER they had buried the dog and taken care of all the clean up. He had that dog for over 13 years. She was the last remaining living thing that he shared with his late wife. How dare you try to prevent someone from participating in an important part of the grieving process like that? How fucking dare they do that?

I'm having a difficult time processing why she would act this way towards her only son. I know fear makes people do strange things. I can appreciate that. I can't grasp or appreciate why she continues to treat her son with such immature behavior. Is her fear that great?

I'm angry that she behaves this way and I am the one who has to deal with the fall out. I spent the better part of yesterday having to prop my hubby up emotionally. I knew it was coming. I recognized it for what it was as it began to unfold. I held him while he sobbed but I couldn't fix it for him. I could only comfort him. I listened to him pour his heart out and express his frustration and fears. I listened to him tell me about memories of Meggie (our dog) and of Lynda (his late wife). I listened to him ask questions. I don't have the answers to the question of why they do this. I don't understand why she's so emotionally castrating in the relationship with her only son. I don't understand the definition that this woman has for love.

Yes, I did say that I normally love thinking about relationships and what makes people tick. I did say that love is a verb. I did say that I think God must think that I need more practice with people.

I don't like this woman. I don't like her behavior. I don't understand it....or perhaps I don't want to understand it. I don't know.

What I do know is that I'm angry with her. I'm growing more skilled at dealing with my anger towards her behavior. I still don't like it.

Love is a verb.

Lord, guide me in my actions so I can act appropriately for all involved.

P.S. and please cradle my hubby with your love.

Comments

This battle is not yours to fight. The struggle belongs to your husband. All you can do is be supportive. I'm sorry. Life sux sometimes, don't it?

Posted by: Dale | February 13, 2006 at 09:23 AM

Can they aim some of the radiation at her brain? Sounds like she could use it. B, your MIL and all of you, are in my prayers.

Posted by: NewYorkTwinMom | February 13, 2006 at 09:30 AM

It sounds like they want to keep him from the hurt and worry---not saying what they did is right by any means---I mean, come on, he's a grown mature responsible adult! It is rather mind boggling that they treat him like a little child? It's a wonder your husband is a responsible functioning adult. I cannot imagine dealing with that frustration. As hard as it is, about all you can do is provide emotional support for your dh.

(((hugs)))

Posted by: trisha | February 13, 2006 at 10:02 AM

My hubby's dad had surgery a few months back and never told us about it until WAY after the fact. They are both so determined not to be any kind of burden. I don't know what the answers are, but sending hugs.

Posted by: dulciana | February 13, 2006 at 01:48 PM