When Hell Froze Over.

Picture it. Fall 2001.

BB died. Yeah, yeah.

The next day, my dad arrives at my house from out of state with his wife (who is not my mother).

Simply put, my mom and dad have a very strong relationship.

They are linked by my brother, myself and a thick cable of hatred.

I bet you know the type.

I don’t remember who else was at my house when they arrived. I just know I had on baby blue sheep pajamas, BB’s fisherman hat and that my mom was also at my house. Mark this as a super special occasion in my life. The only time they had been “together” that I could ever remember was at our wedding 6 weeks previous. That was an especially tense day and the wonderful state that is death made this time even better.

Who would have guessed that my parents would ever be in the same house together, (mine!), EVER.

I don’t remember much else about that day. But I do recall the following weekends how my dad and his other half would drive up and help me at the house. I know they assisted with other stuff but yard work was the thing that sticks out in my brain. Remember the GRASS post? One significant day, I think the week of the funeral, we (mom, brother, dad, stepper and myself) were “alone” together at my house. They were raking.

My mom later told me a few interesting things about this time in our lives.

1- my brother came out the day after BB died (good timing, idiot)

2- my dad said something to her like “so, I guess Hell finally froze over…” I am sure this dates back to a conversation they had in my childhood that I am not aware of but you get the point.

I think what really happened was that Hell got lukewarm but heated back up later that year. Things have been back to “normal” ever since.

The real reason for this particular post was two-fold.

One, I had a dream about BB. He was in jail… I am dreaming metaphorically these days I guess. The “charges” were dropped and just as I was about to call my lawyer to get him out of jail, he and his dad show up at our (BB and mine) house.  Interesting.

Two, sometime in the fall of 2001, after the hubbub died down (no pun intended). I remember being on my porch looking at the annoying plants and talking on the phone to my dad. He had started to call daily after BB died… That too ended. Anyhoot… he was telling me that his fav aunt had passed away. I never really knew/know his side of the family. He was saying something like he expected me to attend the viewing/funeral in his place or something like that. I was flabbergasted as back in the day and years following pretty much any mention of funeral homes, hospitals, etc. made me get all shaky/hyperventilaty feeling. I told him in no way would I do that and that it was just too soon.

He quickly remembered what trauma I was going through (how could you forget?) and backpedaled out of that conversation really quickly.

It is not like I wouldn’t typically do something like that for someone. I will do a lot for those I care for. Everybody has limits though and back then I was learning how to redefine all of mine.

I hate being forced to do crap like that.

Stupid death. Stupid selfish people. Stupid Stupid Stupid.