Thursday, April 30, 2009

April 30

I can't believe it has been 17 days since I last posted. A number of things have happened I would like to talk about two of them. An unexpected day off from work frees me to write.


Scrub Caps

I am *still* sewing scrub caps. It is incredible how well they have sold; we have learned that they sold much better as direct orders achieved through personal interaction than in an open sale. Hopefully this is my last batch of five to sew. I am finally getting tired of making them. I still enjoy seeing people wearing my caps, though!

We had two dates where we had a table outside the cafeteria at work to sell the caps. L, another nurse, wanted to have a bake sale in addition to the cap sale. It was less-well-organized than my cap sales, but it did well. People always want to pick up a goodie after grabbing their lunches.  From bake sale items we made about $450 over the 2 days.  I can't believe that.

The caps were poorly displayed at the sale- just in a pile and no one was wearing them. No wonder they didn't sell very well.

I was a bit disappointed with the amateur appearance of the table and the display of our items. I had delegated that task, so I'm not going to criticize. I think if we had a nicer display we could have sold much more hats. I am also concerned about the image of our unit. The table did not look polished and professional.


Visiting the parents


I took a few days off last week and went to Virginia to visit my parents. I took the opportunity to visit with a good friend who lives near my parents. Seeing G was fun. Visiting the parents....not so much. My aunt and uncle live in the area, to, and I got to see them for lunch one day. Nice, because I hadn't seen them in a few years.


My current impression on the aging process is that it happens to everyone else, but not you. By this, I mean that you, yourself, do not think of yourself as old, despite all the evidence to the contrary. For example, my 73 year old aunt commented on how aggressive some of the "old people" are in the grocery store on senior citizen day. Ironically, I remember her laughing at my grandmother for not wanting to associate with the "old people" at her retirement home.

You may shoot me when I am over 65 and say such a thing.

At this visit, I saw decline. Mom has not changed a whole lot, but her immobility is not improving. She can hardly lift her leg into the car. Dad has declined: he walks with a shuffle now. His short term memory is getting worse. His balance is not so good. His driving is getting even scarier. He is getting angry about it, too....he wasn't mean to me, but my mother had intimated that he yells at times.

They have done one thing right. They have planned there estate and they have done it well. Thank God.

Which makes me want to write my feelings on their planned estate. It is all very logical how they have set up things. My older sister is the primary executor. Then me, then my brother. My brother and his wife have been getting extra money from my parents to assist with the raising of their child. This is the only grandchild, so it make sense. And it is their money, they can do what they wish with it.

I am the afterthought. I'm the backup plan. I'm the also-ran.

It has been this way all my life. Despite the fact that I cultivate a relationship with them, maintain it, and actively pursue it, I still feel like I'm the extra one. I'm not the smartest, or the richest, or the most desired, or the one with the most education, or the one who reproduced. I'm the nice-to-have.

This feeling pains me greatly. I struggle with it partially because my parents are both second children themselves - especially my mother complains along similar lines in how she was treated in her family. Yet, they did it themselves.

Yet, here I am, 43 years old - shouldn't I be "over" this already???? I am not, and I doubt I ever will be. I have learned to live with it, and so I will continue. My life is mine, not theirs.

I just wish they wouldn't bring it up. Going over the estate plans and documents thrust the situation in my face. No, I did not like being reminded just where it is I fit in this family. On paper. Formally. Notarized. Oh, for God's sake, stop already.

Oh well, enough complaining. I have more to write, but I'm getting tired of writing for now.

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