Last weekend was very much a whirlwind of emotions. I went to Mom and Dad’s house on Friday afternoon and stayed until early morning, Sunday. It took me about an hour and a half just to get to their house on Friday. The damned traffic – rush hour on a Friday afternoon – I really should have known better. Nonetheless, I made the trip up there anyway. I like spending as much time as I can up there. Even if they didn’t’ show up until 5 PM, it still gave me time to enjoy being “home” again. Yes, I haven’t lived there for several years, but it does sometimes still feel like home to me.
I had a few Smirnoff Ice drinks with mom – I would say one too many, and I only had two. I ended up texting Eric at a little bit after midnight on Saturday morning. It was a simple text message to state, “Happy Birthday, Eric.” Thankfully, he didn’t respond. Don’t ask me what got over me – I have no idea why I sent that message, honestly. It was a rather stupid idea, I assure you. Mind you, that wouldn’t’ be the last stupid decision of the weekend.
We took Mom and Dad’s pontoon out on Saturday, which was very fun…too much fun. It was a rather cloudy, and even gloomy day. Fun was had, regardless. I feel badly, though, as I do feel as though Grandma was too cold that day. I know that’s what good old’ Uncle Bob was worried about to begin with, and we didn’t listen. We were more concerned with drinking. Selfish of me, I see now looking back. That’s starting to become part of who I am, I am realizing. I had several (I lost track of how many) glasses of wine and it proved to be too many. I became a poor drunk indeed. I was yelling all sorts of names toward people, and just being very obnoxious. The next text I type after drafting this blog entry will be an apology e-mail message to my mother. I will follow-up with a phone call as well.
My Aunt (Sonya), texted me and followed-up with me by saying, “Next time we do this, we will definitely have to limit ourselves, and we will have to be more responsible about it. You need to be a polite drunk.” That’s not an exact quote as to what she said – I cannot recall exactly what she said. Nice drunk? I cannot seem to remember the precise time. I just responded and said, “Sonya, I cannot choose how I react when I am drunk.” With that said, I think it’s best I stick to my limit of two – that can be just as enjoyable as having several and getting hammered out of my wits!
After we brought the boat back on Saturday afternoon we started talking about my brother’s recent accident (well not so recent anymore). The family had seen his car in the garage – which I was trying to avoid. I broke my keychain trying to get the front door open for everyone. My brother said, “Why don’t you just go in the garage?” Well you jackass, because nobody else knew about the car (yet). After the garage door was open, clearly they knew about it. He kept throwing out the term, “I’m invincible.” No, Victor, you are NOT. You can’t drive the vehicle at 130 miles per hour down a small road like Mom and Dad’s while drunk and expect nothing to happen. You’re lucky you got out with your life, honestly.
I couldn’t handle it when he said those things; I broke down and cried tears that seemed as though they would never stop. Seemed like my eyes turned into rivers or floodgates. I hate knowing that he thinks that. My mom wrapped her arms around me for the longest time and said that things will be okay. I don’t’ know that I believe that yet; how can they be if he behaves that way? I know, there is only so much that I can do. I need to let him go. She told me that, and I adamantly refused and said, “I will not let him go, mom. He’s my brother. Lord knows I think more about him, and more about you and Dad than I even think about myself.” Which is probably not really even a lie. I think about them all a great deal. Tears me apart thinking that any one of them is hurt. The only good thing to come out of this? My brother asked my mother on Sunday evening, “Why was Dustin so upset yesterday?” Her response was that I was worried about him, very worried about him and that he’ll hurt himself somehow if he’s not careful. She called me on Sunday evening to tell me about the conversation. I didn’t know what to make of it, honestly. I still don’t.
Sunday was also the 11th anniversary of the passing of my biological father, Jim. Though I never met Jim in person, he’s my father. He gave me life. I owe him at the very least, that. He treated my mother and me poorly, from what I am told. Nonetheless, he was indeed my father, and gave me life. Without that I wouldn’t be here, pissing people off, and being the overly emotional man that I am. It was a hard day most certainly, but I will need to get over those tears. I think of the song “Angels Calling” by the Tenors when I think of this day. It was on the radio when I was driving home, and I’ll never forget crying all the way home, playing the song over and over on my phone when I found out.
[video=youtube;tJgDBikXMuY]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tJgDBikXMuY[/video]
I had a few Smirnoff Ice drinks with mom – I would say one too many, and I only had two. I ended up texting Eric at a little bit after midnight on Saturday morning. It was a simple text message to state, “Happy Birthday, Eric.” Thankfully, he didn’t respond. Don’t ask me what got over me – I have no idea why I sent that message, honestly. It was a rather stupid idea, I assure you. Mind you, that wouldn’t’ be the last stupid decision of the weekend.
We took Mom and Dad’s pontoon out on Saturday, which was very fun…too much fun. It was a rather cloudy, and even gloomy day. Fun was had, regardless. I feel badly, though, as I do feel as though Grandma was too cold that day. I know that’s what good old’ Uncle Bob was worried about to begin with, and we didn’t listen. We were more concerned with drinking. Selfish of me, I see now looking back. That’s starting to become part of who I am, I am realizing. I had several (I lost track of how many) glasses of wine and it proved to be too many. I became a poor drunk indeed. I was yelling all sorts of names toward people, and just being very obnoxious. The next text I type after drafting this blog entry will be an apology e-mail message to my mother. I will follow-up with a phone call as well.
My Aunt (Sonya), texted me and followed-up with me by saying, “Next time we do this, we will definitely have to limit ourselves, and we will have to be more responsible about it. You need to be a polite drunk.” That’s not an exact quote as to what she said – I cannot recall exactly what she said. Nice drunk? I cannot seem to remember the precise time. I just responded and said, “Sonya, I cannot choose how I react when I am drunk.” With that said, I think it’s best I stick to my limit of two – that can be just as enjoyable as having several and getting hammered out of my wits!
After we brought the boat back on Saturday afternoon we started talking about my brother’s recent accident (well not so recent anymore). The family had seen his car in the garage – which I was trying to avoid. I broke my keychain trying to get the front door open for everyone. My brother said, “Why don’t you just go in the garage?” Well you jackass, because nobody else knew about the car (yet). After the garage door was open, clearly they knew about it. He kept throwing out the term, “I’m invincible.” No, Victor, you are NOT. You can’t drive the vehicle at 130 miles per hour down a small road like Mom and Dad’s while drunk and expect nothing to happen. You’re lucky you got out with your life, honestly.
I couldn’t handle it when he said those things; I broke down and cried tears that seemed as though they would never stop. Seemed like my eyes turned into rivers or floodgates. I hate knowing that he thinks that. My mom wrapped her arms around me for the longest time and said that things will be okay. I don’t’ know that I believe that yet; how can they be if he behaves that way? I know, there is only so much that I can do. I need to let him go. She told me that, and I adamantly refused and said, “I will not let him go, mom. He’s my brother. Lord knows I think more about him, and more about you and Dad than I even think about myself.” Which is probably not really even a lie. I think about them all a great deal. Tears me apart thinking that any one of them is hurt. The only good thing to come out of this? My brother asked my mother on Sunday evening, “Why was Dustin so upset yesterday?” Her response was that I was worried about him, very worried about him and that he’ll hurt himself somehow if he’s not careful. She called me on Sunday evening to tell me about the conversation. I didn’t know what to make of it, honestly. I still don’t.
Sunday was also the 11th anniversary of the passing of my biological father, Jim. Though I never met Jim in person, he’s my father. He gave me life. I owe him at the very least, that. He treated my mother and me poorly, from what I am told. Nonetheless, he was indeed my father, and gave me life. Without that I wouldn’t be here, pissing people off, and being the overly emotional man that I am. It was a hard day most certainly, but I will need to get over those tears. I think of the song “Angels Calling” by the Tenors when I think of this day. It was on the radio when I was driving home, and I’ll never forget crying all the way home, playing the song over and over on my phone when I found out.
[video=youtube;tJgDBikXMuY]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tJgDBikXMuY[/video]