Anhydrous Wit

Are you pondering what I'm pondering?

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

You Can't Go Home Again

That's an old saying to warn people that things change in your absence. Attending my ten year high school reunion provided a lot of good examples. No one stayed 18 years old until I saw them again; they aged just as I did.

Another concept is that, even as an adult, some people revert to childlike roles when they visit their parents. I'll confess that I was like that, although, being a dutiful son, that shouldn't be surprising. It's different now. I'm still a dutiful son, but I'm far more a caretaker and far less cared for than I used to be. I hope I don't tire you out with frequent references to my dad's death, but this post is about that again.

When my dad's older brother died, my father became the patriarch of our family. He was the next ranking male figure for my cousin and second cousin (the sole men in a house of women). Now that my father is gone, the title passes to my other uncle, my dad's younger brother. Whenever he dies, I don't think the mantle will be passed again; we cousins are too separated.

However, I have found a fur cape of familial responsibility on my shoulders. You know how they used to show it in movies about medieval royalty: too warm and heavy and itchy, but it's a symbol of the position, so you'd better get used to it. Due to reasons "I would prefer not to" get into (Thank you, Bartleby), I, the youngest son, am now the patriarch. (Being 200+ miles from my mother, rather than 2,000+ miles is a contributing factor, too.)

I invited my mom to stay with me this week. I thought it would be good to get her out of the house. She got up this morning, claiming she had to go to the bathroom, but, really, who can sleep through an alarm clock at 4:30 a.m., an electric razor, and steel-toed work boots clomping on wooden floors? Actually, I think she misses all the years of kissing my dad goodbye as he left for work. It wasn't quite a Blondie moment as she bade me goodbye, but it felt really weird to realize that it's my turn to go off to work and leave her at home.

I hope she went back to bed.

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