Sunday, June 23, 2013

It Never Gets Any Easier


So today I had a good idea.  Why not take a ride up to Pennsylvania, just to break the routine?  I've been wanting to check out the Oxford Cemetery, who several of my recently deceased relatives are buried.  Bill and I also like a small, out of the way restaurant on the Old London Road in Landenberg with the unoriginal name of "Daddy's Kitchen." Landenberg is in mushroom country and this restaurant has the best cream of mushroom soup in the world.  And that is no exaggeration.


"Daddy's Kitchen" - Landenberg, PA - June 23, 2013


Bill always likes to revisit Pennsylvania, a state where we lived many (35) years until the greedy politicians who run the government (in the ground) taxed us out of the state.  We just could not live out our retirement years in Pennsylvania on a fixed income as long as our school tax was going up in double digits every year. But that's another story I've moaned and groaned about many times in past blogs and I won't go there again.





So anyway, I asked Bill if he would like to go along.  Of course I always know I'm asking for trouble when I ask Bill to go along with me because he is an incurable Backseat Driver.  Most time I can handle it, but it doesn't get easier.  I was prepared to the inevitable complaints about my driving.  What I really wasn't ready for today was Bill getting in a snit because I didn't want to hear him bitch and complain for the next hour and a half (80 miles to Oxford from Milton).  First thing he got on was the disbandment of the Exodus Ministries.  You know, the one where the asshats claim to turn gays into straights with "therapy."  Uh huh.  I really didn't want to hear this all the way up so I didn't respond.  I could have said "I don't want to talk about it" but I know that would set him off so I said nothing, hoping he would get the hint.  He got the hint all right, he said "Turn on the radio since you're not going to listen to me."  I told him "Bill, I don't want to hear negative the whole trip up.  Let's talk about somethings positive."  Well, Positive isn't Bill's big thing.  You think I complain a lot?  Ha!  I'm nothing compared to Bill.  Most times I suffer in silence and just let him ramble on.  But God forbid should I say something when an inconsiderate driver almost causes me to have an accident but cutting in front of me.  So he made up his mind, I was going to get the Silent Treatment.  

Folks, this has happened so often in the past.  It's part of our relationship.  I mentioned to Bill once "Ever notice Bill that you're the one who is always mad at me and usually for not paying enough attention to you?" Of course he doesn't see it that way.  I admit, I can be aloof at times.  That's why I said "No" when he first asked me to live with him.  I do like to be alone.  Of course I get lonely sometimes (a lot actually, why do you think I blog?) but I'm not one for solitary confinement.  
To me that would be the worst punishment possible, to put me in a cell without any natural light and cut off completely from any social interaction with people.  But I digress.  Back to me and Bill.

Bill puts his hands over his eyes and turns away from me.  He's not even going to look at the scenery.  He's really going to punish me. Oh I am such a bad person.

I let some time go by then I try and make amends. He'll have none of it.  Reminds me of the time my Mother said her father got mad at her and her sister over some silly incident with a garage door.  Grandpop was in his eighties and fiesty and ornery. No sweet old man he.  
"Grandpop" - my maternal grandfather, the only grandparent I ever knew - yep, he was as sweet as he looks in this picture - just ask my Mother - 1980
My Aunt Jeanette and Uncle George were taking care of him.  Like I said he got made because they either closed the garage door or didn't (I forget which) but it was small incident which, apparently was actually a link to a bigger issue which was the ever popular CONTROL.  Granpop was so mad he said "I'm mad and I'm going to stay mad all day!" So there you go, and eight-something year old man acting childish.  He's going to pout until he get's his way or ELSE.    Well folks, here we go. Deja vu all over again.  


Look folks, I'm no saint and I'm the first to admit it but this has been going on for 49 years now.  It just doesn't get any easier.  If anyone tells you that living with the same person for 49 years is a bed of roses, go ask them to have their head examined.  It ISN'T easy.  Always a work in progress.

But here's the thing folks, there is no one and I mean NO ONE I care for more in the world than Bill and I know he cares for me as much as I do him.  Long sentence there folks but you got the message.  I've had disagreements with friends before, some have ditched me to the curb over something silly (you know who you are), and some have ditched me because they wanted a relationship and I didn't reciprocate.  Been there, done that, doesn't work.  Only with Bill, in spite of our major differences and him often getting mad at me for stupid and silly reasons, Bill still cares.  The day he doesn't, then I'll know for sure it is over.  We've had many a close call before.  Several times I was ready to throw in the towel just because I was exhausted playing the nursemaid to his temper tantrums, but I just couldn't leave him.  Oh sure, I could live by myself but I couldn't live knowing Bill was by himself somewhere.  So as long as he wants me I'll put up with him "episodes." 

I tried to make good by inviting him in for lunch at "Daddy's Restaurant."  He also loves their mushroom soup.  He wouldn't come in.  So I went in by myself.  Here's what I had:


The fries were delicious, just the way Bill likes them - crunchy on the outside and soft and pillowy on the inside.  The "charbroiled" Angus burger wasn't "charbroiled" (they rarely are even though they are advertised as such) but it was good.  Maybe I was hungry.  At least they cooked the bacon.  Too often I get half raw bacon on top of my cheeseburger.
I got some of their mushroom soup to go but Bill says "I don't want any!"  So his mad on continues.

If you're wondering what Bill thinks by reading this blog posting, he told me some time ago he stopped reading my blogs.  He also requested that I not write about us.  Hmmmm. Well folks, this is my life and how I deal with it, the awful person that I am not paying enough attention to my sweetie.  I still love him though.  I think the next time I'll just let him rant on about his latest bitch. That's easier than this Silent Treatment.  That never gets any easier.


But look on the bright side, now I have a window of time I can drive without a backseat driver.  Nothing is ever all bad.  I try to get some "good" of the bad.....when possible of course.

2 comments:

  1. I think sometimes when you fuss with each other its because of other things that may be bothering you. I would guess that Bill is probably worried about your health and the only way of dealing with the inevitability of what could happen is to focus on or be miserably because of, other things...such as the "disbandment of the Exodus Ministries." I have been married for 37 years and I am the queen of the silent treatment. My poor husband has been putting up with my bad behavior for years! I hate myself for it but it is something I tend do when I am angry.

    I love your blog and I look forward to you and Bill celebrating 50 years together.

    A. Greene

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    Replies
    1. Arlene,

      Thank you for your thoughtful comment. Yes, Bill is worried about my health. However, Bill is bipolar. I discovered that fact by accident several years ago. He will come out of it in a few days and all will be forgotten. My good friend Larry, who has been married 51 years, wife is also bipolar. We both recognize that this behavior on the part of our partners is part of the deal.

      When I was younger I used to do the Silent Treatment when I was mad at somebody. I stopped that when I was 24 years old. I always talk, mad or not. My Mother handled disagreements with my father by giving him the silent treatment. I guess I would rather her do that than argue. I never heard them argue in my life. And, thankfully, I never heard my father shout at my Mother. She never shouted at him either but if she was upset all she had to go was give him The Look. I understand Arleen. We all handle our situations differently.

      Thank you for being a loyal blog reader. I appreciate all of you!

      Ron

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