So, since I told my mom that I am pregnant, she's hardly asked me anything about the baby. Hasn't asked how I've been feeling. Hasn't asked if we've picked names. Are we excited. Do we want a boy or a girl. Are we going to move before Squirt's born. Etc. The usual litany of questions that every other person who knows has asked. And she definitely hasn't said congratulations. She's pretty much been silent on the whole thing. You'd think, from our conversations, that it wasn't happening. In fact, we had a discussion about some of J's family members, and she asked, "Do they know about...you?" Like I've got some communicable disease that nobody is supposed to talk about.
This weekend I went to Columbus with the intention of meeting my grandfather for the first time. This would be my father's father. I never met my father, and I never will. Why? He died in 2001. Saturday I couldn't get ahold of my grandfather, so we stopped by my grandmother's house. This would be my mother's mother. One of my uncles was there, so we all sat around for a while, shooting the shit and watching the Buckeyes game. Naturally the topic came around to my mother. Now I have further evidence that she isn't excited about the baby. She spoke with my grandmother and my uncle on separate occasions, and they both got the impression that she isn't excited. She basically feels she isn't ready to be a grandmother. Well I got news for you honey, TOO FUCKING BAD. We didn't make this decision for her. We didn't make this decision ABOUT her. In fact, my mother never entered my mind when J and I decided to have a baby. She used to say it to me as a child, and she sure could use a dose of her own medicine, but THE WORLD DOESN'T REVOLVE AROUND YOU. So quit pretending like it does. Quit pretending everybody does everything in their own life because of you. It's not. about. you.
Sunday we went to breakfast and J called her Grandma, knowing it would get under her skin. In a pretty bitchy tone of voice, she said "Don't say that again." I turned to him and said "Yeah because then it makes it not TRUE."
Since Cathy came up with the idea, I've been looking for a way to come up with a story about an innocent victim of a lie told in silence. Turns out the shit was my own life all along. I can't say as it was specifically a lie, but her silence on the matter turns out to speak volumes. You can decide who the victim is. There's a repeat theme in some of my posts about not understanding why someone could cut another person out of their life so completely. Well, I've got a pretty good reason going right here. I don't know that I want my child growing up with such a hateful, mean old woman as a grandmother.