TMI - theraputic spewing..all about me.

I am such a jerk. Sometimes I relize what I brat I am. When I moved to Finland, I was happy about not being so damned geographically close to certain members of my family. Let’s face it, I am not the easiest person to get along with occasionally. Growing up the youngest of 4 children had its advantages. For example, I bold faced lied to my mom that I did’t break my brother’s guitar: “I am too short to reach it, how could it have been me?” I was always the little one (am not the shortest anymore though). My papa called me “peanut”. Which was a shortened version of what he originally called me: “pint of peanuts” because I was so small and skinny. I had stick legs with knobby knees and skinny little arms and a flat belly. Of course, running around like a maniac didn’t hurt to keep the fat off. Oh how I wish I still had that energy.

Right, where was I…oh yeah.: So a history. I have 2 older brothers and and older sister. Mom and Dad were good Catholics and popped out us brats very very close together. There are 16 months separating my oldest brother Roger and my sister Michelle and then 16 months separating my brother William and myself. I am not trying to be a bitch here, but to be honest – Roger and I are gifted. We always have been. We both actually had the problem where we had to take advanced classes and in some cases university level courses during our pre-university schooling because we weren’t challenged enough. The geek lable came early for us folks. It isn’t something we asked for, it just was. Languages, humanities and the like come easy and in my brother’s case, he is freakishly smart with science and math. My other siblings were, unfortunately, not as gifted academically. I say unfortunately because my father and mother put a very heavy emphasis on education and in some cases they put too much pressure on us. There came a time where they finally accepted that William and Michelle were gifted in other ways, but not in the way that made school easy for them.

The pressure to succeed academically was heinous for me. My oldest brother is a certified genius. No joke. He is a freak of nature (in a good way). He thinks in levels that I am just not wired to be able to understand. As a result, Mr. Brain would come home with greater than a 4.0 average (for you Finn’s he got higher than 10’s), be captain of the debate team, in the drama club, Mensa, French National Honour Society, yadda yadda yadda. So the comparison was inevitable.

As a result of all of the pressure my brother felt (or if it is just his wiring), he is one of the most emotionally reserved people I know. He does not form emotional attachments very easily. He is a good person, but just aloof. He doesn’t call family members, shuns family gatherings, and even “forgets” to call my Dad on his birthday or Father’s Day. How much of this is active resentment I have no idea. It was as if everything was reversed. He would be praised for being so gifted and I would have pressure to step up to his level. Now I was, selfishly, reveling in his distance. I became the kid who was always there to help, at every family gathering, remembering EVERYONE’s birthdays with cards and a small gift; always THERE. It isn’t that I did these things JUST to usurp his place as Mr. Perfect. I genuinely love my family. But sometimes I would do things out of purely selfish motives and not because I really wanted to. Looking back, it doesn’t feel so good to have been that shallow.

Anyway, at some point, my selfish reasons no longer existed. I really, genuinely enjoy being there for my family. It was as I entered my late 20’s early 30’s that I really began to realize that I had sort of backed myself into a corner in some ways. As much as I truly loved seeing my Papa every other week for dinner, it became increasingly easy for certain people (my step mom) to guilt me into doing things I really didn’t want to do. It is a character weakness in myself I realize, but she is the world’s BEST at guilt trips. My happiness at seeing my Papa for dinner became a bit soured with the guilt trips I would receive if I had to cancel. It became assumed that I am the good child – where my brother didn’t call, I would call 3 times a week. Where my brother didn’t visit, I would be there twice a month. When their wedding anniversary came around (right before I moved), I was the one that planned the 200 person party – complete with the Priest that married them.

After moving, I was relieved to not have those “responsibilities” any longer. I was happy to be able to call them once a week or have them call me. The pressure (mostly self-induced but not wholely) was off. I do miss them – terribly. But the distance has been healthy for me.
Que the Guilt:

Yesterday I got an email, after my Step-Mom tried to call me twice, stating that my Dad is in the hospital with a rather dangerous infection in his leg caused by staph which entered his system somehow. It is an internal infection, so not contagious, but if not treated could have been life threatening. He loathes doctors in all forms – just like me. I learned that behaviour from him. He insisted he was fine but after a few visits to the ER, they admitted him. He is going to be OK as far as we can tell, but it still worries me. I know his infection is being treated, and that he is getting great care, but I am afraid he won’t follow the Dr’s instructions. I called him immediately in his hospital room when Peggy sent me the email and told him he would do anything to get out of work! He laughed and I almost cried. I really love my Papa’s laugh. It is deep and from his belly. The kind of laugh that wraps around me and makes me feel safe. He is required to be off his leg for 2 weeks. The Dr told him and he said to me: “I am think it is a bit extreme for me to be out of work for 2 weeks.” ---let’s just hope he doesn’t end up back in the hospital…

I feel so damned guilty for not being there and am worried about my Papa. I am the only child that calls regularly and that really takes an active interest in their lives. It makes me so sad that their other children are just checked out.

…right enough whining