Day #68 > WEDNESDAY 30th DECEMBER
Down at 9.00am & Mum’s a little sombre. I make us a new brew of coffee & ask if Bob’s given her a talking to & that she now feels that I should leave? She looks at me & shakes her head, although does confirm that she’s spoken with Bob & that she’s not happy with life here. I suggest that we have our coffee before getting too deep but Bob comes wibbling along out of the bedroom & it all kicks off again . . .
I’d barely swellowed my coffee & Bob was f’ing & cussing about this, that & the other. He simply insisted that he would call the counsellors to arrange an appointment for just Mum & him – as I wasn’t family – & that I had promised to leave after that.
Sigh.
I factually corrected him on how we’d actually left it yesterday, along with that he simply wasn’t in a position to call the shots & I’d be calling to set up an appointment for all of us. We batted it around a bit. Then a bit more. Then a lot more. Then he started swearing, so again I simply reminded him that he doesn’t call all the shots with this as he was a proven liar, but of course I cannot stop him calling, so go right ahead & call them Bob, & I will call them too. Simples. Once we’ve all had a meeting & you are on the road to having meetings yourself & are pulling together then I’ll be on my way, if that’s what Mum wants. I bowed out then.
Bob took up his position with tablet in the den & I took the phone & called the alcohol counsellors – as now there were three cases of NA beer (that’s x36 cans!) in the household & it’s spiralling out of control – clearly addiction is still a massive issue & I’m relieved to be calling a specialist. I call, chat through all & they confirm they’ll call back within the hour. Hoorah.
Sure enough, the call is received & Bob books his appointment for 1.30pm next Wednesday & Mum books hers for 10.30am next Thursday. Individual appointments. Good. With this in the bag we walk Abel for some fresh air, & it’s stopped raining now too. We touch tenderly on Bob’s cussing & attitude, but it’s not a surprise to Mum & she’s a little low – as she’s well-aware she’s seeing the ‘real’ Bob now. She doesn’t like what she sees, so I reassure her she’s always welcome to be with me, & I’d really enjoy it as I enjoy her company. We meet the local band of dog-walkers too, which brings a much-needed respite from Deweyland shenanigans – so return all happy.
I suggest to Mum that if I were Bob, I’d be grabbing her by the hand & whisking her out of the house somewhere to do something lovely together – doesn’t matter what – just something that doesn’t need brainpower & leaves a warm feeling. She raises her eyebrows. I say that if nothing happens before lunchtime then I’ll take her out this afternoon – if nothing else we can go for a walk if the weather’s nice or pop to Trinity for some comfort or do whatever she wishes. She smiles. She smiles on the outside, but not on the inside, as she’s hurting. I try to reassure her that I feel her pain & no that counselling is arranged I’ll back off a little bit, as I know only too well that I’m behind a lot of the angst in the house. She reassures me that I’m not the cause of it – Bob is – but I know she needs a break from all this, so show her my verse of the day, which is Matthew 5:44 – KJV:
But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.
Gulp.
How real is that – as Bob has indeed being cussing/cursing me today! So I pray again for him & make a nice cup of tea. We chit-chat.
Bob’s decided shopping is required so makes a list & the Deweys disappear out around 11.30am – apparently food shopping & a couple of prescriptions are required.
I’m glad for some respite – & type up all whilst it’s still fresh.
They’re back at 1.15pm & put away the shopping before Mum announces she’s off for a siesta at 1.45pm. I ask if she’s had lunch. Nope she replies. Sigh. I start composing a message to Social Services straight away . . .
I retire upstairs & watch, listen, snooze & pray for the afternoon, as the weather’s shocking so no chance of a walk & I don’t want to be around Bob today. Not only do I want nothing to do with him, but I can see the anger in him upsets Mum so I don’t want to make things worse now that an appointment has been made. Best I keep quiet today.
Mum pops up around 6.00pm & tells me dinner’s ready. We have a little chat & she tells me she’s feeling sad & today is a very bad day. We talk it though & agree that a short period of angst & pain will yield dividends for the future, as she knew she simply didn’t have a future a couple of months ago . . . we go downstairs on a high.
Bob’s made Mac ’n’ cheese for dinner – with a salad. During this he tells me I missed a call earlier. Something about a woman leaving a message ‘I’ve passed your message onto Martha,’ although he said it was a very bad line. I asked why he didn’t shout up to me if he couldn’t make it up the stairs, as it was clearly a call for me? He said he didn’t want to disturb me. Ok, can’t argue with that – despite it’s convenience – so I asked that if I receive calls in the future he simply calls me. He asks if I’m expecting more calls. ‘Oh yes!’ I say. Hmm. I voice that I don’t know who Martha is so I’m at a loss, & does Bob have any more information about who the call was from? He replies not, & I ask if he took the number. ‘It’s on the phone history’ he says, & then brazenly starts to tell Mum – not me! – that he didn’t understand who the call was for at first, but when he looked at the number he cross-checked it & it matched the alcohol office we’d spoken to earlier. The counsellors. ‘Bob?!’ I exclaimed, ‘You just told me that you didn’t know who the call was from but now you’re telling Mum it’s from the counsellors! Oh, I see, I see what’s happened here – I understand what you’re doing.’
I left it there. I knew. Mum knew. Bob didn’t. What a difficult man he is. I pray for his salvation.
We ate, I cleared up & after Jeopardy & Mum went to bed, I lasted five more minutes alone in the room with Bob before bailing & heading upstairs to bed . . .
I am seriously finding this man impossible to communicate with now – not to mention tolerate – & I’m close to saying or doing something I might regret. He’s getting to me. I pray for strength, insight &, quite simply, love to shine.