you know, now that I’m hitting the grand old age of 40 you’d think I’d have learnt something over the years… not that I’ve ever been accused of being that smart or that wise, but there’s this idea that age brings wisdom and all that, yatta yatta yatta.
and yet… every once in a while I find out that yes, I am still the naive little girl that I swear doesn’t exist.
case in point: I have been here, in this wonderful country with my Wookie almost exactly four years. I came down April 30, 2000 after quitting my job and leaving my family and most of my friends (offline) to a lovely house and the man I love.
not a bad thing, really… I got a chance to pursue my writing, which has done okay to date. Not great, but okay. Works for me.
well, his mother and his sister have been awful to me ever since I arrived. Four years later, his mother refuses to look me in the eye when we’re visiting, hasn’t ever called to just “chat” to me or make me feel welcome in this country and has accused my husband of taking “my” side over “hers” – the “other” Mrs.. As well as “pussywhipped”; which if you know the Wook isn’t a charge that can be made lightly.
I’ve invited her for every holiday; sent down food when she can’t make it and sent down food when my crockpot has overfloweth with good food (hopefully). My husband is down there Monday to take out the trash, Wednesday to visit and Saturdays we visit after picking up her mail at the local post office. His sister, mother of three adorable children, ignores me totally and we never see the kids other than to send presents over. I stopped visiting the house last year when we dropped off presents and again was rudely treated.
now, I ain’t no Miss Manners to dictate anything to anyone about how to treat guests. But, Lordy… when someone comes to visit shouldn’t you at least offer them a drink? Tea? Coffee? Cola? But I get none of that from his sister, who has ignored our wedding and all other events connected with me.
I’ve been dealing with this for four years, as I said – and my husband’s explanation has been that it’s just the way they are; that they are just like that to everyone else and I shouldn’t be insulted nor upset and to just ignore them. Until his mother accuses him of something involving me, and then of course it hits the fan.
and then, a few days ago, a revelation.
maybe, just maybe, they’re like that BECAUSE THEY WANT TO BE. They are consciously choosing to be awful to me because they want to be, not out of ignorance or just plain old lack of couth, as my grandmother would say.
in other words, it’s not that they’re trailer park trash and don’t know any better – they just don’t WANT to do better. When I’m involved, that is.
this is very depressing.
and once again, a bit of my naiviete goes flying out the window as I realise that there are people out there like that.
I’m cleaning the kitchen. There are things there that haven’t been moved for four years.