Saturday, March 12, 2011

Responsibility.

(part 2 of 12 series)

David, Jr.
When you are the oldest in any family, it is almost a given that your role becomes one of parental assistant for your younger siblings. In my dad's family, Uncle Dave was the big brother to 9 brothers and sisters.

As the oldest child in my family, I can relate to that position, the responsibility and the pressure. You don't get to choose your birth order, it is just one of the many cards that is dealt to your life's hand, and it is up to you on how you play it. (According to my siblings, and my cousins I chose to play it bossy. I am sooo misunderstood).

I call it responsibility! 

As the oldest child you have not only lived longer, but you have also heard ALL the lectures, and understand what will probably get your siblings in trouble. You also love your younger siblings unconditionally (most of the time) and share the same hopes and dreams for them as your parents.

Uncle Dave always embraced this responsibility and he worked hard to set an example to his younger siblings. He helped his parents daily with this large, ever growing family. After high school, he served his country. Uncle Dave gave back to the community, helping to build a local church, while working long days and weeks to provide for his family.

He held those same high expectations for all of us, and he always felt it his responsibility to share his disappointment if we let him down. I experienced one of those reprimands, and it still sticks with me today. 

At the time I didn't appreciate it much. I thought he was being a curmudgeon, and he just didn't understand. Maturity and time for reflection eventually changed that feeling. 

I know now that Uncle Dave was just trying to get me to step up to my responsibility as an adult, to understand and appreciate the sacrifices that my father made to help me succeed in life. 

I know now that his gruff demeanor was a cover for a caring man who wanted only the best for all the members of the large family he helped to raise.

Sunday, March 06, 2011

Year 52: BRING IT!


I had been feeling a bit out of sorts lately. I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was, or what was causing it. I just seemed to be in a very bad mood daily. (Yes, Karol, more ornery than usual. Thanks for asking!) A chronic waking up on the wrong side of the bad, oops, bed. (See, right there, even my fingers are possessed by evil).

The other day someone said something I didn't agree with.  (I don't even remember what it was about it, or even who said it). Totally innocent something.  But TOO late for them. And I'm like, WHAT?  WHAT did you SAY?  On no you DITN'T! Come  a little closer will you so I can JUMP DOWN YOUR THROAT!

And then everyone is looking at me like I'm THAT bat-shit crazy person. You know what I'm saying: the stolen glances at the person next to them,  the hesitant, carefully chosen next words, and then the slow backing away, as you are left standing there - bug-eyed and red-faced.

And, then it dawned on me.  I know what this is.

Remember that movie "Steel Magnolias"? Where the Shirley Maclaine character Ouiser says "I'm not crazy,  I've just been in a very bad mood for 40 years!"  In other words, old-lady-cranky-pants.

B.I.N.G.O.  It is official I have entered the madness! And chances are, I'm just getting started! WOOT! 


Here are my distinct symptoms: Cranky. Crabby. Grumpy. Cantankerous. Crotchety. Grouchy. Irascible. Irritable. Ornery. Vinegary. Acerbic. Acid. Angry. Caustic. Bad-humored. Bearish. Choleric. Cross. Disagreeable. Hot-tempered. Ill-humored. Mean.  Quick-tempered. Ratty. Snappish.  Astringent. Belligerent. Biting. Bitter. Churlish. Cross. Cutting. Irate.  Mad. Petulant. Sarcastic. Sharp. Spiteful. Tart. Testy. Wrathful. Crusty. Ill-natured. Huffy. Obstinate. Petulant. Prickly. Quarrelsome. Snappish. Sour. Stuffy. Testy.

I'll stop with these 52 words. There are more. Many more. Many, many, MANY more. But, I have decided to save the others, and add a word each year to the list. It will give me something to look forward to in my old-lady-cranky-pants-lonely-because-no-one-can-stand-me-meaningless-life.

So, yeah. 

Year 52. 

That's right. 

It's my 52nd birthday today. That is what I was originally suppose to be writing about. It was going to be something sentimental and meaningful. I was going to have my picture taken in the style of my grandmother Phoebe, (See HERE and HERE), one of my bucket list items (HERE). And then write about how she inspired me, her life, my life, blah, blah, blah. 

But then my sister didn't like what I picked out to wear.

And then she made some innocent wardrobe suggestions.

And, of course,  those clothes didn't FIT! (And I don't mean they were TOO BIG!)

And then I over reacted in my old-lady-cranky-pants way.

And then I said "F-It",  Just take the G.D. picture!

And then she carefully said "o...k...", while slowly backing away.

So now, I don't want to write about being 52 anymore or the pleasant spirit of my grandmother Phoebe.

It bears repeating, I am: Cranky. Crabby. Grumpy. Cantankerous. Crotchety. Grouchy. Irascible. Irritable. Ornery. Vinegary. Acerbic. Acid. Angry. Caustic. Bad-humored. Bearish. Choleric. Cross. Disagreeable. Hot-tempered. Ill-humored. Mean.  Quick-tempered. Ratty. Snappish.  Astringent. Belligerent. Biting. Bitter. Churlish. Cross. Cutting. Irate.  Mad. Petulant. Sarcastic. Sharp. Spiteful. Tart. Testy. Wrathful. Crusty. Ill-natured. Huffy. Obstinate. Petulant. Prickly. Quarrelsome. Snappish. Sour. Stuffy. Testy.

And, so, this old-lady-cranky-pants has just one thing left to say - a personal message to old father time, who has stolen her youth AND her good humor: