(no subject)

[polychromatic]

Feeling guilty on Christmas Eve.

My parents are out of town living their retirement dreams in Bali at the moment. I don't begrudge them their travel at this stage of their lives - my dad has really started to show signs of his age over the pandemic and I want him to enjoy travel and the retirement that he deserves. But I would be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed to be spending Christmas alone for the third year in a row (thanks for nothing, Covid!) Being an only child with no cousins who I'm close to, and being a single woman, the reality of an "orphan Christmas" in my future is very real and a little frightening. I am an introvert - yes - but the thought of being truly "alone" is disheartening, to say the least.

When a friend and her family very kindly invited me to join in on their Christmas dinner, I was relieved and grateful to accept it. To participate in someone else's warm and loving holiday dinner and fun is certainly much more enticing than spending it at home with my Korean take-out and only my (beloved!) cat for company. I have been looking forward to it and have been happy to share with co-workers and friends that I will not be alone for Christmas! Someone wants me to be a part of theirs! Isn't that great?

In the meantime, I have been performing my filial duties by driving to my uncle's house to shovel snow. It's a corner lot, which means extra sidewalk and back laneway to shovel. It has three decks, which means another extra hour. Every year when it snows, I tell my mom completely truthfully that I hate having to shovel this house and that I wish they'd sell it. With my grandparents' passing, there is now no longer a "family" that occupies it. My single, technically elderly uncle lives there alone. He does not cook, he does not clean, and he truly does not need a three-bedroom free-standing home all to himself, particularly in the current housing climate in this city. I would begrudge him less if he made any effort to learn these life-skills, but having been taken care of by his mother, then his wife, then his mother again, and now my parents, it's likely too late. It doesn't help that I have a complicated relationship with him, frustrated that as I grew older his treatment of me did not adjust accordingly. He is argumentative for the sake of "winning" debates that no one is interested in engaging in. Even when I have begged out of these unwanted debates, he does not relent until I have truly lost my cool, and then he plays the victim to my mom, because why would he deserve such an outburst like that? This was before the emotional meltdown I had at him over my grandmother and his refusal to accept her diagnosis of dementia. It has only gotten worse since then.

So yes, there is unfortunately a lot of resentment felt when I have to go over and shovel out the house he refuses to sell. And why does he refuse to sell it? Because - purportedly - he is keeping it to pass on to my cousin. My cousin who walked away from the family while I was in my first year of veterinary school. My cousin who reportedly has depression and is probably not doing anything to treat it. My cousin who is a widow at the age of 47 after just under 10 years of marriage to a woman who steadfastly refused to believe in the medical system and so passed away from breast cancer despite knowing her sister had been diagnosed with it (and survived with treatment) and finding a lump in her breast two years ago. My cousin who is - most pointedly - not here to live in and take care of this house.

A lot of complicated feelings.

Anyway, I shoveled out the house three times. Ryan (my mom's "kid" as I call him) also showed up twice, and my friend Lisa helped out once. I am ashamed to say that I am outwardly cold to my uncle, but it's almost a defense mechanism. If I don't engage with him, he doesn't have the opportunity to provoke me into one of his stupid "debates". My mood significantly improved with the appearance of my friend, but quickly soured when I introduced her as "my friend from Trek" (a high school outdoor program we both attended) and my uncle responded "But you weren't in Trek". Not a question, not asking for clarification about whether I had been in Trek and he had forgotten. He was so certain that he was right that he argued with me about my own life, even when I tried to correct him and laugh it off. 

He invited me to stay for dinner, after having made Ryan drive across Vancouver in the cold and ice to deliver it to him. I declined.

When it snowed again on Friday, I had to shovel my way out of my apartment building (with another exercise in frustration with an old man) and asked my uncle NOT to shovel and to try calling 311 to see if they could organize a volunteer for him. He - of course - didn't listen. When I showed up he had cleared part of the sidewalk. And while I should be, I don't know, grateful?, that he did something on his own, I was more peeved that he could have injured himself and that could have resulted in a visit to the doctor or the ER and for me to "take care" of him. But I finished the rest of the sidewalks while he trailed me telling me how I was obviously doing "the easier stuff" that people had walked on. I finished the front path, the stairs, then moved to go into the house to do the porches. He told me not to do them.

Charitably, I know that it's his way of trying to be kind. He doesn't want me to do more than I need to. But in my mind, I am already here. I have made the drive out to shovel the house out and his not been easy. The drive back to my apartment will not be fun. If I am here, I might as well do things right and prevent the likelihood of my needing to return in icy conditions. The snow today is heavy, I explain. Freezing rain is in the forecast, which can make things worse. If we don't clear the snow and ice, the drains could get clogged and we could have issues with flooding. He tells me I'm wrong and everything will just melt. Exasperatedly, I tell him it's his house so he can do whatever he wants then.

I move on to start shoveling out the back laneway and he tries to stop me again. I explain that to safely LEAVE, I need to shovel this out as I do not plan to ping-pong down the icy death-trap that is the completely untouched back and side streets in this neighbourhood. I also point out that if he is planning to leave the house (which I had strongly recommended he not do), he will need this area shoveled as well, as does the rest of the people who live on this block. Finally, I note that it had already been cleared on the Tuesday when I came by, which means that the neighbour behind us had probably done it the previous days, and doesn't Jeff deserve a break too? My uncle tries to argue that Jeff doesn't have to shovel as much since he doesn't live on a corner lot, as if I didn't already know that having shoveled three times.

When I was finally done, my uncle asked me what my plans are for Christmas. I froze for a second, my mind racing through "he might want me to spend it with him" and "I should probably offer to spend it with him" and "I really do not want to spend Christmas with him". I have plans already, that are going to be fun and warm and happy. If I spend Christmas with my uncle, I have no idea what we'll eat (I haven't cooked for him since he ate ALL the curry I made for him once, leaving no lunch for me, and then turned around and complained to me about my cooking), and I know it will not be a fun and warm and happy time. I quickly tell him I have been invited to a friend's family dinner that I am planning to attend. I am needlessly brusque when he presents me with a $100 gift card to the mall again. I don't shop often, I don't need things, and these cards collect dust in my apartment. I tell him I appreciate the gesture, but please don't get me anything anymore, I don't need it. He has the grace to smile and tell me to gift it to someone who does then. I wish him a Merry Christmas, tell him to be safe, and leave.

My mom tells me people say I'm a "good kid" for shovelling the snow for him. I tell her how actively resentful I am for having to do it. That resentment is actively growing every year, I can feel it.

My friend Meghan texts me and I mention that I've had to go shovel at my uncle's house that day.

Meghan: Did you see Malcolm?
Me: I'm not aware that he's in town
Meghan: He told me he was coming for the holidays
Me: First I've heard of it
Meghan: That would be weird if he came and didn't tell your uncle and mom?
Me: I mean, it's possible they just haven't told me. And my mom is in Bali anyway
Meghan: He said he was coming the 21st
Me: Maybe his flight got cancelled. Anyway, I have no idea

I hate how emotionally riled up I immediately become with any mention of my cousin. I think it's the same defense mechanism I use with my uncle, I have to not care because I've felt so hurt and I don't want to be in that state again. But immediately, the possibility that he is in town and either 1) my mother has purposely not made me aware of it or 2) my mother is not aware of it herself is upsetting to me, particularly with everything she has done for him this year. The third possibility (he is not in town and lied to my friend) seems less likely.  So! My feelings about having to shovel this house have become significantly more resentful.

Today, Meghan showed up to return my Harry Potter want and drop off some cookies. She pointedly asked if I would spend time with my uncle. As someone who has complicated relationships with her own immediate family, I'm surprised that she would care. I tell her that no, I'm going to a friend's place for Christmas instead. When she asks why, I tell her that I have made the choice not to be actively miserable on Christmas. My uncle and I are not a point where we enjoy each other's company anymore, and I don't want to spend my Christmas arguing with him and increasing my already growing resentment towards him.

But, of course, now I feel guilty.

Maybe there's no reason for it. Perhaps Malcolm is in town and he can spend Christmas with his son and they can try not making each other miserable. There's a possibility he could spend it with his on-again-off-again girlfriend of some twenty-odd years and her daughters. I would have absolutely hated spending time with her, that's for certain. She shares that same unearned, self-assured smugness that I dislike so much in my uncle. The two of them together is almost unbearable.

God, I hate that it is always my family (my uncle and my cousin and my dearly departed grandma) that always drive me to needing more therapy. It's not an expense that I really want to pay for, but I think if things keep spiraling in my head like this, I'll have to consider it.

But hey, I have Disneyland in January. Maybe if I hold out until then, that infuriatingly effective Disney Magic can fix me instead.