Monday, July 31, 2017

A gooder son.

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Not the best son, but a better son.  I am not economically successful.  And I am difficult to work with.  At least now we understand why.  As well, I am doing enough better so as to work better and more.  This last helps my standing as a son.  My mother, in some ways, is old school.  Men work, women feed.

I helped paint part of the first room and most of the second room.  This, besides being a thing she wanted desperately, was something she really shouldn't have been helping.  I simply wasn't sure what I could do.  She had to do the organizing.  But the actual painting was a bit much for her.  After painting the first room, I realized I could paint well enough, so did most of the next room.  This pleased both of us.  I like to work.  I more have trouble organizing.  She is good at that part of it.

As well, I cut branches so that she can park without scratching her vehicle, mow without having to duck, and removed a few shrub-trees which were becoming a nuisance.  Oh, and just today I cleaned her gutters, changing the heights of various places so they should drain better and calking a seem that was dripping on her.

Beyond those things, I took care of most groceries, gave her some money for utilities, helped with the dishes and cooking chores, among other things.  Domestics really isn't my forte.  But I can help, and did, from time to time.

We have had a few arguments.  When it gets too hot, that just happens.  And yet this has been one of the best visits I can remember.  I am doing my level best not to leave on a sour note.  We used to do that.  My brother does that.  It is good.

I am planning on returning next spring, for a family swoop in to see my niece's graduation.  I have not met my brother's daughters.  I have only seen my brother twice since his wedding.  We will, if all holds, be in a small caravan of folk heading south for the graduation.  And, when we return, I asked... tonight... if we can begin planning a family reunion.  I can't do the calls and such.  Not my gig.  But I can be her legs.  I can do actual work, as needed.  Between the two of us, and perhaps a lady cousin, we might yet have a family reunion... perhaps the year after... so two years hence, give or take.

Yeah, now that I am not just a mental, i will begin being a part of the family again.  Believing I was crazy kept me from being involved.  I even passed up some opportunities at good women.  Yeah.  They really did mess me over by lying about the nature of my illness.  Whatevs.  I'll heal what I can, and redo what I can.  It's been good, perhaps it will be better from now on... mostly.

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