R.I.P Old boy Joe

 I make no excuses about the tone of this post - but I will tell you it's a venting one - and not about the band. So if you stop reading right here - I don't blame you and my next post I will be back on track. I just had to get this out though - I am in pain.



I don't usually suffer from a tight band during times of stress - at least not until now. But for the last 24 hours I just haven't been hungry - I have eaten barely anything and I can't seem to force food down anyway. I had some saddening news early this morning. My grandad has died. He was old and in a home and for the last six months, really didn't recognise any of us too well, but still, it sucks. We were close.



MOTH (Man of the House) and I had been running around like black-assed blowflies yesterday. That whole '2 small ovens' thing really didn't work out and after I told him under no uncertain terms I was done with not having a 'proper' oven he got his shit together and we organised to go looking for one TOGETHER yesterday.


After being out all day we finally found what we wanted - I got a new 6 burner stainless steel cook top to match the oven - and when we get home later that day Mason tells me my father has called. My grandfather isn't doing too well - he's now hooked up to morphine. Those who have been reading my blog for a while know what we have here is a fractured family - I haven't seen nor spoken to my parents and sister for near on 18 months. So to get this call meant things were serious.



I quickly change and both Mitch and Mason offer to come with me to the nursing home to see him. They are there for support (and want to see their great-grandfather also.) MOTH was up to his elbows installing the oven (and to be honest - it's not high on his list of things he wants to do - running into my folks.) We get there, my uncle and cousin are there in the room with my father. There's a lot of tears, mostly from me - grandad looks so withered and is just not doing well. Dad and I tried to make the best of a bad situation. But still we talk - just about general stuff - he mentions how good I'm looking with the weight loss but all in all, there was nothing too important said. I did though, at one point, break down on his shoulder briefly, receiving a hug like he never wanted to let me go. After about an hour we are planning to leave and the door swings open.

My mother takes one step in - takes about another second to register that her grandson (Mitchell) is in her line of sight, screws up her mouth and beats a hasty retreat. My father has never moved so fast. He goes outside the room to join her and is missing for about 15 minutes. Then comes back in alone. I say, "Look dad, I didn't come here to make trouble - I just wanted to see my grandfather." My dad pats me on the back and we leave after I check what would be a good time to come in today. "Anytime," he says. Now what have my children ever done to my mother?  Had she even acknowledged them with something, anything!... I might have had a garnered a long lost smidgen of respect for her. But no, she ignores them both and refuses to even speak to them. This woman is just on another 'narcissistic' plantet. I can guarantee it will be ALL about her....



I got a call from my Aunty at about 8am today. Grandad passed away at 4.30am this morning and she was ringing as she wasn't sure if anyone had told me yet. I wasn't aware she knew anything about the rift so I said, "No, I hadn't but I was going in to the nursing home in about an hour anyway, and thanks so much for calling." (We have seen each other a few times during the 18 months - and she has always been her normal lovely self giving me no indication she was aware of any trouble within the family - shows how much I know.) 


I have a huge cry, get dressed and go to the nursing home. Grandad has already been picked up by the Funeral home. Then at one pm... ONE PM... I finally get a call from someone. My sister. She says exactly 9 words. "Dad asked me to call. Grandad has died. Seeya." I was pretty blown away by the fact my father hadn't called to tell me himself, though it doesn't surprise me. My mother has done yet another number on him and probably 'forbidden' him from contact again. So again, he does her bidding. Words can't explain it. And do they honestly think I wouldn't know about this news already by now by my hand or someone else's? It's after lunch for fucks sake.



Now I have the funeral to get through. That should be fun - not. Facing everybody and running into my immediate family. I think I will give them a wide berth. If my father cannot use his balls to call his own daughter when his father has died - then they are all a lost cause. End of story.


I am sorry this is the tone of my blog today - but as you probably gathered - life pretty much sucks right now.  I am not much good to anyone so I won't respond on your blogs for a few days but I will be reading. I promise.



Hope you have lovely weekend
Cara x