27 January 2020

Today, I spent my time in trains, staring at thick fog and drizzle and rivers and deep forests. Not listening to the podcasts I had downloaded, trying to gather hwat remnants of energy I had after a weekend with the extended clan (25+ energetic people) celebrating my father's longevity (91 years).

He was brisk and to the point, late comers had to sort out their own seating. Presents were refused and simply left behind as threatened. Lunch at 12 noon on the spot, guided tour of the Rococo castle at 2 pm and coffee and cake at 3:30 sharp. Great grandchildren were hushed. My sister had a crying fit because no gluten free cake.  Also, question and answer session on the history and origin of Rococo (think ornamental gold, parks full of topiary and over the top everything), just to check that everybody was paying attention. Like a 13-year old, I mentioned Watteau and got a bonus point. My brother kept his mouth shut but gave me The Look. My sister was still sobbing.
And then the king of the castle got up and drove home in time for sports news. We looked at each other and mumbled our good byes. I retreated to my hotel room and stared at the ceiling for a very long time.

His declared aim is to live at least 100 years (his mother died aged 103) and right now, I could weep at the thought that this is going to happen every January.

Five and a half hours on a train each way provide some soothing but hell, I'll be 71 when he is 100 and maybe I'll pass.

Not sure how and when I'll recover, so forgive if I won't comment for a day or three.

11 comments:

Ms. Moon said...

Sounds painfully dreadful. I'm so sorry.

Anonymous said...

That sounds like such a bummer of a time. I'm so sorry. Please take care there and remember better times.

am said...

What could be more exhausting? Sending love as you recover. I thought of you today when I took a short walk in the woods because our sun came out briefly and the birds were singing and the sky was so blue and I saw Wood Ducks in Scudder Pond.

My life so far said...

Aren't families wonderful:)

Hope you're feeling better soon.

molly said...

This reminded me of my F-I-L whom I (privately) called the Prince of Carpathia who did not live to be 100. Have none of the 25+ considered rebelling? In as far as misery loves company I'm glad to know I'm not alone in having had despots, benevolent or otherwise in my family. I'm sure you'll make a speedy recovery and perhaps arrange to have other things planned for the date of next year's "celebration!"

Roderick Robinson said...

Don't be tempted to re-arrange "hwat" (second line) if you ever re-read. It perfectly fits Thurber's cartoon caption:

Now we're all disenchanted.

Steve Reed said...

Take some time for yourself! It can be so exhausting to be immersed in people for events like that.

ellen abbott said...

I think I'd be tempted to tell dad that I graduated school many years ago and refuse to participate. sorry, but your father sounds like an inflexible ass. my father tended to lecture instead of participate in a conversation. I avoided his company for many years. after his stroke, it changed his personality, for the better I might add.

Tara said...

oh dear gawd, woman, what you have endured. Perhaps next year you will come down with a terrible chest cold and be unable to make the journey (don't want to make dear old dad sick).

Allison said...

This sounds so horrible, I'm sorry you had to attend.

Secret Agent Woman said...

That sounds remarkably unpleasant. And this: "My sister had a crying fit because no gluten free cake. " made me laugh out loud.