The World According to "Aaarrgh!"

Sometimes, it takes a traumatic event to sight things right again.  For example, a common cure for the hiccups is to startle the hiccuping person, and it works, too.  When our great nation was in the doldrums for a decade, the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor snapped us out of it and gave us purpose and focus once again.

I have spent this week throwing myself a massive pity party about a situation that I have no control over, namely Christmas.  All of my bellyaching doesn’t change one iota that I have zero control over what other people do.  Even if I am skeptical, based on past history, that they won’t do what they say they will do, I need to give them the chance to fail, and not be so melodramatic and jump to a conclusion that, despite its high probability of occurring, is not guarenteed to occur.  I preach the message of entropy, that there is a certain amount of randomness in the universe that can and does change what we think is a guaranteed outcome; somehow, in my self-absorption, I have turned a deaf-ear to my own message.   Sometimes it’s just too easy to mope and feel sorry for myself.

On the way to work this morning, my wife called me.  I could hear profound sadness in her voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“My grandmother died.”

“Are they sure this time?”

(A year ago, they had told her her grandmother died, only to find out it was a case of mistaken identity, and it was her grandmother’s roommate that died.)

“Yes.  At 2 AM.”

What do you say when your wife tells you her beloved grandmother died?  I felt as helpless as I did when my ex-wife’s father died.  “I’m sorry” sounds cheesy.  So does “She’s in a better place.”

“At least she’s not suffering anymore.”

I regretting saying it as soon as it came out of my mouth.

“But she’s still dead.”

Ouch.  Good point.  Better to be alive and in pain than dead and pain-free.  Feeling like a first-class heel due to my inability to say anything, I did what most people do when confronted with an uneasy silence – I changed the subject.

“How’s your Dad holding up?”

As her paternal grandmother is the only family my father-in-law has left in Stillwater, as her mother passed last December, it’s a legitimate question.

“He’s doing okay, I guess.”

I was relieved to hear that.  As her grandmother has donated her body to science, there will be no funeral.  As her grandmother only has four living descendants in Oklahoma, there will be no memorial service, which I think is a tragedy, as memorial services are important for closure.

In two consecutive Decembers, my wife has had three major traumas.  In December 2008, she lost her mother, and thought she lost her grandmother.  In the first ten days of December 2009, she had her son snatched and now has lost her grandmother again, except this time it isn’t a false alarm.

On top of all that, she doesn’t need to put up with my pity party.  Right now, she needs a husband, not a 43 year old self-pitying baby.  What happens with Christmas, happens.  Perhaps I might be surprised and my ex will actually show up on time, and we will have a good Christmas, all eleven of us.  Regardless, my wife needs me right now, so it is time for me to snap out of my doldrums.  Call it my own personal Pearl Harbor.