Monthly Archives: July 2018

There, and back again. I wish it had a happy ending, like Bilbo Baggins’s book. I dropped my wife off to spend a few days with her sister in the North country. Last night I stayed in a motel and bedded down for the night at 10 pm. I am by nature a light sleeper, and unused to sleeping in strange beds. Unfortunately, I also had the neighbours from hell. They stayed up all night, and the door to their room must have slammed fifty times. Finally, at 3 AM, I summoned up the courage to open my door and see what the hell was going on down the hall. At that point, I saw two figures dressed in deep hoodies, and sporting backpacks. They seem to be in a hurry to leave the neighbours room, and kept their heads down and their hats pulled over their faces. I am no babe in the bush, and it struck me that probably what was going down was a drug deal. This could be a flight of fancy on my part, but pieces fit together pretty well I think. Someone who is dealing could rent a room reasonably cheaply and use it as a headquarters for the evening to do their transactions. Hence, the multiple door slammings and conversations in the hall. At four in the morning, still without sleep, I got on the phone to the front desk and did some yelling. Things seem to quiet down for a bit, and I was drifting off by around 6 AM when the shenanigans resumed. So, not one iota of sleep the whole night really. Around 7 o’clock in the morning, I grabbed a coffee and went to see them at the front desk. I told them how my night had gone. They expressed sympathy and offered me a discount. Ha ha. I said a one hundred percent discount would be more in line with my thinking, and that’s what I walked out with. It is 6:45 PM as I write this, and I am going to bed for the night in my own comfy quiet room. Wish me luck.

It is debatable whether I should share this.

Tomorrow I will drive 500 miles for the umpteenth time to see my wife’s sister. This is a person who, in the 40 years I have known her, seems bent on self-destruction.

I will spare you the lurid details of her life, except to say that she has been in trouble with the law on more than one occasion, and is close to being jailed for the things she has done and continues to do.

It’s a sore point between my wife and I. Over the years, she has made attempts to rescue, save, or reform this person. All to no avail. We take food up to her, “lend” her money, take her out shopping, buy her cigarettes, you name it. Two years ago, she had a stroke, then booked her self out of the hospital. Since then, my wife has been beside herself trying to get social services to help her out. She can’t understand why they won’t put her sister into an assisted care facility.

As I see it, there are a number of reasons. She is a gangster, so to speak, and has been in that life for years. You don’t just get out of it that easily. She herself will not get involved with social services in case she gets found out. So she is laying low, keeping her contacts close, and living the life.

It seems that every time we go there she’s in a different “house”, and the characters she associates with make me very uncomfortable. We have even brought her into our home for a vacation and, more than once, my wife has broached the idea of having her live with us. At least I have had the guts to say a flat no to that one.

This has been a constant irritant to me, and it’s hard to know what to do. I do understand that this is my wife’s sister, and that she has tried many things to help her get out of the life she’s in. But it’s come to a point where something has to give.

It’s been years since my dear daughter changed her hair colour to deep black. I can’t remember why or exactly when she did it. Sometime after she left the nest anyway.. The last thing dear old dad wants to do is to be critical of her. She is, after all, a very sensitive creature. Also very independent and strong headed. But she does get the drift after a while as to what her dad’s opinion is.

This morning she texted me, and there was a picture to download. The caption above the picture said “Dad, I know you never liked my black hair, so here you go! I went natural. I kind of hate it, And I am thinking of going back and getting it fixed. But I did want you to see what I used to look like.”

I wrote back and said don’t you dare.

Here’s what she did for Dad