Domestic Particulars - Chapter 1
It has been pointed out to me that my weblog is short on the details of daily life so here are some facts about what has been and will be going on:
- My back, which had been doing fine for a long time, has been giving me trouble for the last few weeks. I spend most evenings applying heat.
- Bev and I spent Sunday in bed -- well, in several beds; we were at the local Sleepy's trying out mattresses. We are finally getting rid of our loft-bed futon, acknowledging that our aging bodies need something more supportive, and purchasing a down-to-earth bed. We'll probably be buying a Simmons something-or-other.
- Bev, Ruth, and I are flying to Oberlin, Ohio on Friday to see Joel perform in -- get this -- "Omniumgatherum", the first Theater-Arts-department-sponsored production in which he has been asked to participate. Until now he has only been involved in student-initiated (lower budget, unofficial) productions so this is a big deal. The play is a post-9/11 meditation depicting a bunch of somewhat comic characters representing various points of view sitting around a table and talking while they eat. Joel will play a firefighter who was at the World Trade Center on 9/11.
- I have purchased an inexpensive laptop for my brother (who is slightly brain-damaged and schizophrenic -- a crappy combination) and will be trying, over the next few months to configure it to his needs. First and foremost I will be stripping out Windows and installing Linux. Since his financial circumstances don't allow broadband I'll probably be setting up some sort of prepaid dial-up which should give him enough access to collect email and maybe gather a day's worth of newspaper stories. I will uninstall Instant Messaging software, probably browsers, things like ftp and finger which could be the source of problems. I'll load up on games, maybe find a simple money-tracking program, download some ebooks, etc. Then I will have to teach him how to use all this stuff.
- Ruth returns to school after a week off today
- Ruth will also start rehearsals for "Anything Goes" soon. She has been cast as the ingenue, "Hope", which is a change for her. She normally plays more assertive and/or broadly comic characters. This will give her a chance to extend her range.
There's more but I have to get to work. Besides, too much domesticity in one post isn't healthy.
Comments
For kicks I went and looked at your flickr photos...I didn't get too far. You are a prolific photographer! Your family is lovely. How nice you are documenting your lives on flickr. I'm far too lazy. Most of mine are on discs or the computer.
Thanks for the 'life' update.
Somehow, my parents don't seem to have been paying enough attention to the doctor who delivered my brother when he advised them that there had been some problems ( I think he said something about the forceps) and that they should have him checked out when he was able to talk. When, from the start, he spoke thickly, barely intellegibly, as if English were not his native tongue, they thought it was just a speech impediment and sent him sporadically to speech therapists. They failed to connect it to the violent temper tantrums to which he was periodically subject. FINALLY someone figured out that it was brain damage but the decision was made that he could be mainstreamed, sent to a regular school and sent to regular classes without much special support. I cannot imagine how a bunch of thinking adults thought that was a good idea. He was a pariah, taunted, and miserable. As he grew stronger his violent episodes grew worse. He somehow made it to high school where he began exhibiting symptoms of paranoia -- he began believing that his food had been laced with LSD. Further on he came to believe that all my college reports were actually coded messages about him, to be handed in to some shadowy authority. At another point he thought that there were souls trapped in all the furniture and would watch intently as someone rose from a chair -- as the impression their butt had made in the cushion slowly disappeared he would interpret that as the trapped soul pushing to get out.
He had to be institutionalized, on and off, for years. It took them decades to get medications and dosages right but he hasn't had paranoid episodes in years. He can't, however, hold down a job -- not even a job in one of those programs specially designed for the mentally disabled. Sooner of later his anger erupts violently. He lives in poverty. Any significant gift of money would disqualify him for most of the aid and infrastructure he needs and which none of his siblings, singly or collectively, can afford to provide.
I am, for various reasons, not a very good brother. The relationship is more complicated than that. I talk to him every once in a while, just enough, and I invite him into the city whenever my kids perform (well, now it's just my daughter). I'm not saying, mind you, that I'm a bad brother -- but neither am I a very good one. I believe that is the way it has to be (although I am aware that that judgment may simply be self-serving and self-justifying crap).
Do you know what I think about this? I guess if it mattered you'd have asked, but here it is anyway. My view, my life.
My sister, I love her. I wish she didn't have the internal pain, the voices, the anguish she endures. I can't fix her. I can only watch as she hopefully doesn't destroy too many other lives. I absolve myself of any need to 'fix' her. I accept her as my sister. I accept her when she can be lucid. I pity her when she can't. When she is hospitalized I talk to her if she contacts me. I am the 'best' sister I can be to her in her circumstances. I don't think about whether I am a good one or not. I simply do the sister thing, as well as I can conceive it, under the circumstances.
My sister was not born the way she is. She was created. By people who cared more for their own gratification than that which they themselves had created. So was I. Our brains just function differently. Still, I can't change her situation. I can't change her life. I can only go about mine the best I know how, in a way that makes sense to me and be good to her and love her in my bizarre way.
My saying you are a good brother is a blanket statement to a post that seemed relatively easy to relate to. I can see I shouldn't make snap decisions about posting to others painful situations. I just go with my instincts. I'm a 'by the seat of your pants' kinda girl.
I wish you peace with this. I wish it for myself too. Daily.
Sheryl: I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I in any way regarded your response as hasty or ill-considered. I did not. I welcome your opinion, too.
Having revealed (in passing) something that I rarely reveal and then having gotten your sympathetic response I decided to elaborate a little -- the door was open -- and in the process display an aspect of my personality that I don't usually allow online.
Your're right, I'm troubled and angry. Far less so than I used to be but enough that it sometimes gets in the way. The reasons go way beyond my brother. Maybe I'll tell other parts of the story in other posts but probably not for a long time.
Look, when you're ready to address your pains you will in a way appropriate to you. I appreciate your comment today was not a common thing for you. That was brave.
I seem to have found the most difficult part of your post to comment on. I am sorry for that. It's just that I could relate to it. I find the people I read, blogs, something about them is intriguing to me and draws my attention. Sometimes it's simple and easy to articulate sometimes it's a bit more subversive. Always it seems I connect with people due to some common 'something' and apparently I found yours but it wasn't on purpose.
Thank you for clarifying the post. I feel better knowing I didn't stir up something. I would not like to do that. (can you tell I'm the fixer?)
Barry - Is it possible that you went to Hofstra in the early 70's with my husband, Tom, who is pretty talented for a man of his approximate size and weight? If so, please get in touch. I never saw this site before and there's a real good chance that I'll never find it again, so please write to whereforearts@yahoo.com.
Robin