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relativity
The best part of my week was probably the two-hour lunch I had with my father on Monday as he was passing through town.
He spent most of those two hours telling me about my aunt and uncle's new house that they've just finished building. They designed it themselves and have been planning it for thirty years and their goal is now to outlive the mortgage. The house sounds awesome and they sound really happy and proud. The house is their baby.
Which is good, since it probably helps to take their minds off what colossal failures their real children are. The older one still resents them for hospitalizing him back when he had that schizophrenic episode and has cut off all contact with them. The younger one, who is 28, is living off disability, in a trashy apartment with his teenaged girlfriend. Well, I am assuming the apartment is trashy, based on the rest of it.
Hearing about my cousins' lives certainly makes me feel better about my own, and I think it makes my father feel better about me and my sisters, too. We have issues, but my sister freaking out about applying to med school, for example, or me being in denial about having to pay back my student loan seems quite sane and healthy by comparison. I said to my dad, "See, you should be grateful that I have a job and can support myself, instead of criticizing me because you don't think my job is good enough."
He said, "I am. I am grateful. I would just be more grateful if you were doing something more worthy of you. You deserve so much more."
I love my father.
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"The mind of the thoroughly well informed [person] is a dreadful thing. It is like a bric-a-brac shop, all monsters and dust, and everything priced above its proper value."
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