SATURDAY 18th JUNE . . .
Their last full day with us. That’s gone quickly, hasn’t it.
Lia & I start the day as it should be – with a coffee in the garden. Oh yes. The weather isn’t as kind as it was yesterday, but one day of 30+ degrees in Blighty is to be considered a blessing & today normal service is resumed: grey, damp & somewhere between cold & mild.
We surmise the Deweys visit: Mum is so much better without Bob, only ‘suffering’ with ‘normal’ old age winding-down issues; however when Bob is in the picture she’s usually still alone because his attention is elsewhere – usually TV & tablet for his eyes & booze for his mouth, which reinforces her lack of self worth or importance in their relationship – or he’s ordering her about like a skivvy, so there’s zero daily love & kindness. But this is their norm & has been for 40+ years, so is now their culture & nigh-on impossible to change now.
Add to that, if Mum hasn’t eaten (healthily?) enough or drunk too much or has been ad-hoc medicated – in any combination – she’ll lose recognition of Bob & literally put him out of her mind, very quickly spiralling down with Capgras & confusion, with her anger & resentment solely aimed at Bob; who in turn doesn’t want to change – or is unable to – despite witnessing Mum’s behaviour towards him for a number of years now & is now resenting her treatment of him too. It’s a ticking time bomb.
I hear Gina’s words echoing loudly in my head: ‘When Bob gets home he’s getting a bottle, a coffee cup, a lot of ice, and goes to his throne with his tablet. Susan is going to wonder why Bob pays her no attention. She has nothing to look forward to. Bob doesn’t want to be bothered. The roller coaster continues.’
Old keys don’t open new doors.
Sobering all round.
Bob joins us around 09:00 & Mum appears not long after. They’ve both slept well & we chatty well, with Mum a little disorientated about timings, but essentially all ok in the overall scheme of things. We chew more fat – including a BLT – & all is good.
Around 11:00 I take Mum out to not only give me some Mammy Time, but also to give Bob some time to pack, as Mum’s been interfering in his regimented packing system so the Deweys are starting to grind on each other. It happens every time – they both know it, as do we – so Mum & I head on out . . .
Firstly we visit the glamorous Bedford Post Office main sorting office – to collect the item behind the red card received yesterday – & chatted quite deeply about her future. She doesn’t want to stay at Deweyland as they are – although she always says this to me yet something quite different when with Bob – & again we touch upon us being there for them – if they want us – but if they don’t make any changes there will be no change to her unhappy life in the U.S. of Avoidance. I didn’t labour the point – as I know it is too much for her – so tried to keep it light & just reassure her that Lia & I are here if she wants to include us in her life, & we’d be delighted if she chose to. Her life, her choice.
We then pop to the Friendly Nettle Cafe for coffee & cake, which she enjoyed immensely. Carrot cake is healthy right? Ha. Again, we chewed the fat, but very light chewing & just simply spent some time together. I enjoyed it immensely, & believe she did too. She said it was the highlight of her trip. The cake I mean . . .
From there we visited the giddying delights of the factory where I produce my wares, where she witnessed such sights as my desk & various cutting, folding, sawing & printing machines. She loved it: ‘I’ve never been in somewhere so amazing as this!’ I do believe this was the new highlight of her trip! To be included in my life – my daily life – seemed to count for so much. Such a simple thing. So simple. Actually, if it were someone else, I’d say it was as boring as Bob’s chatter, but well, I played to my audience . . .
We got back home around 14:00, to be greeted by Bob on his throne. He may not have moved since we left, because once we’d been back a few minutes he disappeared upstairs. Mmmm. He wasn’t gone for too long, but I suspect something needed tidying up sharpish . . .
As it was now raining outside we had a warming cuppa & watched some TV – about farming in Yorkshire – & I booked us in at the Old Mill The Burnt Down in Newton Blossomville for dinner tonight – perhaps the finest named pub & village in the land. We’ll leave here around 18:00 so have a couple of hours free, & with that in mind Bob disappeared into the kitchen & reappeared with a chilled can of Cider, which he duly passed to Mum to take a few slugs, then he put the horse racing on the TV, which Mum watched for a couple of minutes before going upstairs, presumably to pack . . . oh.
Bob was more interested in the TV than Mum. Not new news, natch. Time will tell if we can expect fireworks about this soon, but I’ll update all later.
I wrote all the above at around 16:00 on Saturday, & I’m now typing this late on Monday afternoon as indeed the fireworks were so spectacular I haven’t had a chance until now 😳
Let’s light the taper . . .
After Mum had been upstairs ‘packing’ for around 15 minutes, Bob shuffled upstairs to join her. A couple of minutes later I could hear raised voices culminating in Mum telling Bob in no uncertain terms: ‘Get out you bastard.’
Bob leaves the bedroom, shuffles down the stairs & enters the lounge with a ‘There, that’s all done then!’
I don’t bite, as it’s clear to see they have a very toxic relationship with very high highs & very low lows; Mum’s anger or words never affect Bob – as they never land – & Mum always forgives & ultimately accepts his narcissistic gaslighting – it’s as if they thrive off it. Or need it. Toxic.
The tablet is back in Bob’s hands within a nanosecond, & he’s comfy on his throne when Mum enters the room & declares, sternly & sincerely, that she’s had enough & doesn’t want to live with him any more. Ever. She doesn’t want to be near him. She wants to stay here & that’s that.
I pick up my phone, hit the ‘record’ button as I know I’m never going to recall everything that happens next, & endure the following:
Now, this is 35-minutes of your life you’ll never get back, so I’ll paraphrase, but firstly, let me set the scene:
Mum & I out all morning – Bob at home alone – we return & I answer messages & type this – Mum effectively ignored by Bob so she goes upstairs as she’s a fiddler & can’t sit still on her own – Bob eventually notices & joins her (I suspect) to ensure she doesn’t unpack his good work – they try to put clothes aside for travel tomorrow but a row ensues – he has enough & barges past her when he leaves the room which leads to the ‘bastard’ quip – he returns downstairs as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened . . .
Mum comes downstairs after a couple of minutes of processing what’s just happened & tells him she doesn’t think she wants to be with him any more. Ever. She doesn’t want to be anywhere near him.
They bicker about this & that, but it boils down to how Bob treats & speaks to her. And of course he accuses her of making things up & not allowing him to think, as well as the usual veering off on tangents & diving down rabbit holes to avoid the actual cause of the issue. She’s adamant he pushed her out of the way today, but didn’t give her a black eye like he has in the past. Ouch. Mmmm. Naturally I enquired about that a little deeper, but Mum may well be linking falling out of bed with this, but only she can know for sure unless someone witnesses Bob being physically abusive. The truth will out, but it’s not nice to see, even if it’s said in confusion, & I’m desperately trying to avoid the saying ‘there’s no smoke without fire’.
Now, importantly, Mum calls this behaviour ‘normal’ – which is telling – & of course Bob acts as if it’s totally normal too. She’s stressed so is occasionally mixing events & the timeline up – but she’s very focussed & very strong, & the vast majority of what she says is accurate to how Bob treats her & everything is accurate to how she feels.
She acknowledges they’ve been married for a long time & haven’t managed to sort out this kind of behaviour yet, so asks for advice how to. Bob just wants to know what he’s done wrong . . .
Bob’s recollection of events doesn’t actually seem as accurate as Mum’s – with constant misquotes – & Mum tries to nip their bickering in the bud & asks him if he’d like to start again & try & make the best of their life together? Bob replies he would, to which Mum counters that he never changes. They speak different languages: Mum wants care & loving behaviour, Bob wants everything packed & to know where he stands. Not unreasonable eh, but very sad after 40+ years trying to get through to each other. Their relationship though, not mine . . .
Bob then abruptly points the spotlight directly at me, saying he is only sorry that he didn’t feed her before she went out with me this morning. He thinks she didn’t eat, which has led to her outburst now. She needs food he says – which I’m truly grateful has finally sunk in.
However, I do believe he’s mistaken, & am eventually able to get a word in to explain that Mum & I did eat whilst out together, & if that was his only issue why did he offer his cider to his empty-bellied wife who is prone to outbursts of Capgras & anger at such times? He said she wanted it, so I asked where his responsibility lie? He then baffled not only me, but also himself with his wayward responses so I left it there – in the playground.
Mum returns us to adulthood by reminding him she simply wants to be treated well, but bickering breaks out again before she asks him if he wants to end their relationship right now? He says she’s nowhere to go, to which she & I both say she does! We briefly talk about Mum living here in England, but Bob turns the conversation to be about him living here rather than her, & is under the impression that it’s my decision to keep Mum here, rather than it being her own choice. I address both points concisely, for once. Mum can stay her of her own free will. I then try my best to pacifiy, reminding them they don’t do well when stressed & that we have a table booked for food soon, so let’s go & eat & pick up this conversation again later should they wish.
They agreed. I went upstairs to get changed & left ’em alone for a mo – bickering resumed, culminating in:
What do you want Bob? I want you to be happy Susan. That’s good Bob, I don’t know any reason why I won’t be happy if you’re kind & nice to me. If you’re not happy with me then you can stay here Susan.
Sigh.
Again, she asks him to be kind, & he replies that he wants her to be happy – & if it’s without him, fine, but he’d love her to be happy with him.
Which is one of the very few times I’ve actually heard him say he chooses life with Mum.
Short lived – as followed by much more bickering.
They finally agree to try to be happy together.
Sorted. Simples.
Full circle – nothing changes at all, just this 40-year old roleplay they constantly act out. Toxic Groundhog Day.
She then tells him not to interrupt; he tells her he hasn’t & she says: ‘You were just about to.’
Tah Dah Tschhhhhh
Toxic
Then even more bickering.
I try to move them along a little when I return to the room by confirming to Mum that Bob would like her to have a happy life, & asked Bob how he would achieve that? We all know the dream, but how do you achieve it?
Bob replies he’d like her to have a long & happy life, with or without him, & ultimately needs to give it a lot of thought to see exactly how he can make that happen, but then asks Mum what he can do to give her a happy life? Exasperated, Mum says she’d like to live a nice, happy life together & Bob agrees he’d like that as well, so Mum says they’ve wasted a lot of time & that she loves him 🤪
I’d love to say at this point they all lived nicely & happily ever after, but unfortunately Bob misheard what was said & the bickering started up yet again which I shut down immediately as I was ready for food & in the driving seat . . .
We ate well at The Old Mill; have you ever been in a situation where you’re trying to keep the peace but you just want to escape or go berserk instead? Yep, I suspect it was like that & for all of us – ha! Seriously, we all did our best to be nice, & with a couple of drinks accompanying good food we passed a convivial couple of hours before heading back home through the wet countryside. Mum was spent, so went to bed soon after we returned, & Bob followed up pretty soon after.
What a day. Ups & downs. Too much bickering. Far from healthy but apparently very ‘normal’ for the Deweys. Toxic. Madness. I can’t even type a coherent sentence now . . .