I'm kinda blanking on the details following this little episode. I was in kind of a fog for a while, in shock at my own reaction. If I remember correctly we “made up” by the end of the day. He apologized for the impression he gave about woman, trying to lighten the mood and move on. I was grateful, but still more focused on the horror that I had brought it up in the first place, unable to control myself... What if this happened again? What if my subconscious need to be heard, to be understood overtakes my ability to keep my mouth shut in order to keep the peace?... I would lose a friend... someone I really truly was starting to care about. But it was a superficial “making up.” He was distant from me after that an didn't know what I was supposed to do?... I'd lost him. If not completely at that moment it would be soon coming if his attitude and silence persisted.
Maybe three days later something else happened. With my job this time. Resulting in boss's faith in me wavering and my trust in her failing from that point on. I watched her wearily, living in day to day fear that I would lose my job as her random, wild mood swings continued.
If I lost my job with nothing else lined up what would I do? How would I pay my bills? Who knows how long it would take to find another family to nanny for? I had no other skills though I had been wanting to go back to school for years off and on. But, every time I brought it up to Mom she'd talk me out of it. “You don't test well.” “You have test anxiety.” “You have learning disabilities.” “You haven't been in a class room environment in a really long time.” All the things repeated to me over the past several years from my Mom and Grandmother. Mom would then try to offer up different alternatives that if schooling was needed it would gain you a certificate that may or may not be accepted when its all said and done. And it would always be in a field that I either detested or had no interest in. Never going a direct route, as if trying to side step The System. She/we'd always done that; and its never gotten us anywhere.
I was tried of my job hinging on the whims of a stressed out, semi-hysterical, overly privileged parent that would sometimes show signs of jealousy that the kids liked me so much... Hello... They spend most of their waking hours with me!!! Or my job depending on the employment of someone else. Three of the previous families I have worked for at least one parent had lost their jobs resulting in not needing a nanny anymore.
So, yet again I let Mom talk me out of trying to go back to school telling me to stick it out as long as I could until I could get something else lined up... Whatever that was going to be... Before I started working for Trish in 2007 I was already tired of being a Nanny. I was and am still very good at it, but I am tired. Tired for the previous reasons listed, but also unfulfilled. Granted helping children to grow and develop in those so very important first years is no easy task, though it is often over looked. I was wanting something more, but I didn't actually know what it was. I only knew something was missing. I loved to learn and to challenge myself by this point in my life. And I want to make a contribution to the World; if nothing else at least MY little World of people... But, how? And with out more education? Mom was limiting me severely here. I know she was just trying to help. I think she is personally unable to see past either childcare or working in a office. Both things I've done and done well, but do not wish to do again. I tend to feel trapped in the tedium of day to day life in such situations.
Without any hope or plan in place my life continued at a horrid pace. My stomach turned every time my boss watched me hesitantly wondering what was going through her head; would this be the day? The day I lose my job for no apparent reason?
Months pass slowly. A few times the Rabbi would ask me if there was anything I wanted to talk about, if he could help. I'd shake my head “No” and fight off the tears threatening to escape as I thought of the reasons for my demeanor. Then I'd wonder what I actually looked like? How awful was my expression? Surely it didn't match the wounded, scared, terrified girl inside.
Sometime in the summer of 2009 I'd made the hour and a half drive to see my grandparents (dad's parents) at the Lake. I told her a little of what had gone on in my life as it changed, leaving certain pieces of information out about Messicanic stuff that I knew she wouldn't understand or want to understand. Among the topics we talked about I started asking her why I wasn't like anyone else? Not in the family or anyone in general? I was just too... too different...
Thats when she showed me a few of her albums. She told me that I got my writing from her. There were a few short stories and articles she'd written. She'd been asked every time she went to a High School Reunion to write something for it. I felt proud to be her granddaughter in that moment. And even more so when I read what she'd written. It was excellent.... I wasn't as different as I'd thought. :) I had at least one companion in this family of mine.
She also told me on one of those visits that she'd been to the doctor because she'd felt a lump on the side of her head. She'd had cancer a few years before and it had gone into remission for a long time. But, she assured me all would be well and not to worry about it too much. I agreed and went on with my day to day life as it slowly grew more tiresome, more stressful.
Thanksgiving came and talks about cancer arose again few weeks prior. I was aware of the goings on and the plan of action before most of the family and promised to keep my mouth shut til they had more in order. The Lam's gathered once again, after years of separate holiday's and the announcement was made. Grandma's cancer had returned and they were moving closer to my Dad in Wichita into an assisted living facility so he could help them. Other than that black announcement it was actually a really nice holiday. We all laughed and told stories and played a board game Laurie had brought making us laugh even harder... Which is saying something.... We Lam's don't play games. We have no use for them... But it all ended on a pleasant note. Grandma had high spirits that it would all be okay, even if she didn't beat it this time. She always said over and over again that she was old and had lived a good life and was ready to go home.
I hadn't talked to Chad in about a month in a half or two months. I think he'd sent me some random text on Thanksgiving asking about “Turkey Day” but thats as far as the conversation went. I tested the waters with easy conversation but only seemed to be met with subtle- yet visible- resistance. It almost seemed as if he were fighting his own nature trying to talk to me... something I know only to well, now.
The dates were set for my “Christmas Vacation,” plans made as my Dad and I were going to work together to get Grandma and Grandpa moved from the Lake to his house in Burk, just out side of Wichita. I talked to dad frequently as the days and weeks passed, becoming all to aware of both Grandma and Grandpa's deteriorating conditions. It would be a 10 day whirl wind trip for Dad. I would get there, he'd leave the next day to go get their stuff with the movers and bring it back, then spend the next few days putting their apartment together.
My job still stressed me out, but now it all was starting to feel heavier. What could I do? When in doubt, pray. I asked all my friends for prayer for the whole situation. I considered asking Chad but wasn't sure that I was entitled do so anymore. We were barely acquaintances anymore. But, maybe Rebecca was a bit more impartial. More third-party. So I emailed her in December asking for her prayers and explaining the situation.
She emailed back saying of course she would and to let her know if there was anything she could do to help...
….Yeah... NO.... Not going THAT far here. Your son wants nothing to do with me don't expect me to show up on your door asking for assistance. You're a very nice lady and was once a good friend of my mom's but you cannot be completely separated from your son.
A few days before I was to leave Austin and head to help Dad Chad calls me and offers his sympathies and offers to help too. I thank him and brush his petty words away, having no intention in asking for his help. We'd hardly spoken since September...
