Sunday, April 8, 2001
I am up too early... - To LTF
...stressing about my mother's money in the absence of her ability to stress about it. Yesterday I set up a new filing system and put all the paperwork away. It felt like a clean break. Mom wanted to work her way further down her movies-to-watch list last night so that's what we did. I turned in relatively early. The Tao of Steve was still playing itself out. Which my mother liked, much to my surprise, except for the excessive use of "fuck". She left me a note telling me it had a "sweet" ending, for which I am not in the mood.
My mother's movie watching proclivities never fail to amaze me; or, rather, the changes in them. She watched The Gladiator twice...in a row. That was okay with me. I love Oliver Reed and was tickled to watch his last, hammy performance twice. The same, though, happened with The Patriot which I found disturbing. The older she gets the more I am able to watch movies I'm curious about 'in front of' her without her spoiling the viewing. She sat through Ghost Dog without complaint which she wouldn't have done a few years ago. Even I got itchy during that one regardless of how much I like Forrest Whitaker.
Without the help of The Girls I awoke on my own a few minutes before 0400 feeling as though I had to do something! But there's nothing left to do unless I want to invent paperwork. I am so tightly wound over this thing. I am feeling especially 'bad' because I know I have the ability to understand and probably manipulate, this whole situation but I am having a hard time bringing myself to do it. I had a conversation with MA on Friday about the emotional difficulty I am having with this. He was somewhat more sympathetic than MFA and ever eager to teach me the formula for establishing a cost basis, which he was surprised I had figured out myself from last year's calculations. He is also, though, much more determined than MFA that I "...get a hold of myself..." (which I think I've done, eerily well, in fact, in the last few days), "...grab the reins. Your Mom can't do it anymore. I'll teach you anything you need to know." Although he is only two years older than me he fathers four daughters, one of which is his business partner. He treats me like one of his very capable but untutored daughters, which, I suppose, is helpful except that I think of him as my older-est sister's peer and that creates a disparity in reaction between us. I tease him, and he never expects it.
MFA, on the other hand, really misses my mother's input and still tries to wrest it from her. He's in mourning, I think. He's also more than a little surprised that I don't hate my mother, I guess. He keeps trying to get me to "admit" that I feel she is robbing me of something. I guess he still hasn't buried his mother.
This next week is going to be difficult. Fortunately, due to my renewed interest in needlepoint and reading (fortunate because for the last six months I've been purchasing books like crazy but haven't been able to read), standwithing it will involve the use of therapeutic distractions. I'll have to go to Prescott sometime this week, too. It's iffy whether Mom will go. I'm thinking of planning my trip mid-week to catch the incoming storm and maybe get snowed in for the night. Sometimes the possibility of snow excites her. Sometimes not.
My mother's movie watching proclivities never fail to amaze me; or, rather, the changes in them. She watched The Gladiator twice...in a row. That was okay with me. I love Oliver Reed and was tickled to watch his last, hammy performance twice. The same, though, happened with The Patriot which I found disturbing. The older she gets the more I am able to watch movies I'm curious about 'in front of' her without her spoiling the viewing. She sat through Ghost Dog without complaint which she wouldn't have done a few years ago. Even I got itchy during that one regardless of how much I like Forrest Whitaker.
Without the help of The Girls I awoke on my own a few minutes before 0400 feeling as though I had to do something! But there's nothing left to do unless I want to invent paperwork. I am so tightly wound over this thing. I am feeling especially 'bad' because I know I have the ability to understand and probably manipulate, this whole situation but I am having a hard time bringing myself to do it. I had a conversation with MA on Friday about the emotional difficulty I am having with this. He was somewhat more sympathetic than MFA and ever eager to teach me the formula for establishing a cost basis, which he was surprised I had figured out myself from last year's calculations. He is also, though, much more determined than MFA that I "...get a hold of myself..." (which I think I've done, eerily well, in fact, in the last few days), "...grab the reins. Your Mom can't do it anymore. I'll teach you anything you need to know." Although he is only two years older than me he fathers four daughters, one of which is his business partner. He treats me like one of his very capable but untutored daughters, which, I suppose, is helpful except that I think of him as my older-est sister's peer and that creates a disparity in reaction between us. I tease him, and he never expects it.
MFA, on the other hand, really misses my mother's input and still tries to wrest it from her. He's in mourning, I think. He's also more than a little surprised that I don't hate my mother, I guess. He keeps trying to get me to "admit" that I feel she is robbing me of something. I guess he still hasn't buried his mother.
This next week is going to be difficult. Fortunately, due to my renewed interest in needlepoint and reading (fortunate because for the last six months I've been purchasing books like crazy but haven't been able to read), standwithing it will involve the use of therapeutic distractions. I'll have to go to Prescott sometime this week, too. It's iffy whether Mom will go. I'm thinking of planning my trip mid-week to catch the incoming storm and maybe get snowed in for the night. Sometimes the possibility of snow excites her. Sometimes not.
