Now I'm seriously feckin' furious...I decided to renew my Club membership with ipernity so I can open that silly death cert thing...they only take Pay-Pal. Pay-Pal tell me to fill in the security question...just how in heavens name am I expected to remember the name of my first pet when I'll have made something up in the first place...
You see I always pay for stuff via Pay-Pal but the sites I usually use give you the option of making it a onetime event...ipernity doesn't. You have to remember things like passwords and security questions...I'm going to get Himself to join Pay-Pal when he's awake enough to follow directions and then he can use my card...he'll not ever remember the number so it'll be safe.
And this afternoon I was making a present. Something relatively simple...something I've made before without a bother on me. Would the feckin' thing go right...would it match where I wanted it to match...not a chance. I unpicked it twice before giving up...it will turn out alright in the end...after I've pulled out all the loose threads and pressed the fabric again and taken a deep breath.
And I knew full well Facebook would throw something my way which would wind me up like the proverbial spring...just been lucky enough to avoid it so far I suppose. Himselfs youngest daughter dropped us from her life like a hot cake for no reason we could see nor fathom. She does apparently stop speaking to various family members for months at a time but we're still at a loss as to what we're supposed to have done. And I have asked. Anyway...one of the Grandchildren was remembering Christmas with her Gt Grandparents...said how lovely those times were and how she missed them. Youngest daughter replies that she really misses them as well and wishes they were still alive...and what wonderful times they were.
And that seriously pissed me off. She won't visit her Dad because of her stupid little dog having to go into kennels and Teresa offered to have it anyway...she didn't send him a birthday card or Fathers Day card and we didn't have a Christmas card last year either...but she'll weep and wail over two very old and very sick Grandparents who've both been dead for donkeys years.
Of course it's good to remember them...it's lovely to have fond memories of Christmases' spent with them...but they are dead...her Dad isn't.
And it's an awful thing to say but I hope Himself goes before me...because if that self-centred, selfish, and unthinking crew who are his children appear for his funeral I'll let rip...so help me I'll tell them precisely...in words of one syllable...just how appalling it is to totally ignore the fact they have...or had...a Father.
It isn't difficult you see to send a simple card...to scribble something inside it...just to let you know you're not forgotten I suppose.
Us moving here to Ireland was the trigger...I know that now. They all expected us to retire gracefully to a council bungalow where we'd have them to tea on a Sunday...they were appalled when we said we were moving...and moving abroad. Horrified when they came to stay to find supper was served on mis-matched plates and I expected their odious children to sit up at the table. Alarmed when the shops didn't open until 10 in the morning and everyone they met on the street said 'Hiya...how you doing...soft day so'...frightened witless by the lack of department stores and shops selling tourist rubbish...they thought us totally weird when we didn't put the television on automatically first thing in the morning and spent afternoons walking on the bog roads with the dogs instead of slouching on the settee in front of a film.
The eldest son thought me quite mad when I asked would ever he help his Dad with some small job...I'm on holiday he said...I'm not going to work.
While out with the middle son and his family one day at Roscommon castle I asked...'Are you interested in history A.? He glowered and said he knew nothing about it and didn't want to know anyway...we still dragged them round the castle...probably out of sheer spite.
In the world wide scheme of things it doesn't matter whether they make contact or not...it's just a bit lopsided when we do it all...
We're certainly not alone in having an estranged family...but knowing there are others just like us doesn't always make it any easier.