And Now This
My mom called me last night. Unusual for her, since she's only called me three or so times in the four+ years we've been away. I usually call her. Anyway, she called- and I'm still trying to figure out what to make of this- to tell me that she doesn't want me coming to visit her (them), because dad's not feeling well and they'll be making trips to the hospital for "appointments".
My mother doesn't even remember we spoke each time I've called her, and I know she doesn't remember when, exactly, I was going to be visiting. This will be the second time in more than four years I've tried to visit, and the second time she's called it off because "dad" isn't feeling well.
Makes you wonder, hmm? He's never been right in the head, has been "sick" for many years. That's a known fact. I truly thought he'd changed, had regrets (based on recent brief conversations), and wanted to reconnect with his distant brood before his time was up.
There was something in her voice, the way she was nearly whispering. One of his other sons has been taking care of the two of them since my mom re-married him and moved in. During the two-minute-or-so call she said she needed to talk quietly, wanted to keep "my and dad's stuff private", whatever the fuck that means.
I asked, as non-invasively (is that even a word?) as I could, if she couldn't really talk and she said "yeah". I know something's going on. I know her. She'd love to visit, would love to catch up on our lives since moving south, enjoy hearing about the grandchildren she's never met. She tells me every time we talk she misses and loves us, can't wait to see us.
I'll stay away if that's what she really wants, but I'm tempted to drive up there when I fly north anyway. I feel the need to see what's going on.