You Can't Make This Shit Up...
My parents went out of town for one day, today. Off to Central Michigan for a family reunion on my mother’s father’s side. This was strange for me to accept because this is the father who left my grandma when my mother was a little girl, and she did not reunite with him till she was like thirty-five. It was just a foreign concept for me to understand. It would be like me going to my real mom’s family reunion when I have never met any of the relatives on that side. It would be a union (or whatever) not a reunion… Plus let’s not forget all the animosity I hold toward my real mom. I just couldn’t understand it at all.
Anyway, when my mother asked me if I wanted to come along, I of course turned it down. Though I could have easily called off from work, I used the ole play from the lie book to make an excuse to why I would not be attending. Hell, why would I turn down an absolutely great time to spend all alone in my great big house, without such noisy revelries and commotion that usually occurs around here?
Selfishly I said no, and damned if I didn’t deserve it. ‘Sides, they were going to be only gone one day. No, not a night too, just the day they would be gone and then drive the six hour drive back home tonight. I was happy to get the house for at least part of the day, yet saddened that I wouldn’t get the night too. I wouldn’t mind having a couple beers while I sat motionlessly on the couch, or endlessly in front of the dull light radiating from my computer screen. But we got to take what we can get, right? So I won’t complain.
Well, off to work I went for another fruitless night of four hours and no money earned. I got off relatively early, as I hoped to, just to bask in the chance of silent house savoring. I knew that my family probably wouldn’t be home for a good hour or two, so I simply watched the Reds win again on TV, and then crawled back downstairs to my laptop to do some homework. The hours just flew right by me. It wasn’t until 2:30am that I noticed that they were still not home.
What the hell? I asked myself. They should be home, unless they got a really, and I mean really, late start back home. And if you knew my father, and you guys don’t so I’ll fill you in, this never happens. Sure, other Merz’s are notorious for arriving “fashionably late.” But when it comes to my father, let’s just simply say that he never gets home later then 12am. If it was a ten hour drive, he would have left as soon as he got there, just to be home by midnight. That is the way he is, and besides it is “God’s Day” tomorrow. He has to go to church early in the morning, and God forbid he goes to a late mass. No, it was 2:30 in the morning and something was definitely amidst.
Immediately I thought they had chosen to stay the night after all up there. It doesn’t sound unreasonable. There are catholic churches everywhere these days, I hear. They were probably having a good time, and they wanted to continue on their stay for a visit on Sunday too. So, I go to check the machine, which I saw blinking earlier but neglected to check because I only do that when they are on extended vacations (simply because it is not my house or machine and no one ever calls for me anyhow). If they were staying another day, I figured they would leave a casual message telling me so, even though they would know I would never think to check it, they’d do it just as a precaution. Check every “T” and dot you know what, just for good measure’s sake.
“You have nine unheard messages…” the answer-bot gladly told me.
Greeeeeaaaat… I thought to myself. God I hate that machine. It is always such a pain in the ass because you can never skip messages without erasing them. So I had to hear every God damned trivial one to the last. While listening half-heartily to all the messages, I got to kind of regretting the fact that I could have gone out and gotten myself a sixer or something. I was kind of upset that it was now past two in the morning when I could have listened to these earlier. Ah the regret, how simple I can be sometimes. Finally, on the ninth message a stern voice interrupts my thoughts as I am washing a soup bowl I had just currently eaten out of.
“Mike, it’s Dad” he paused. “Pick up the phone it’s urgent, and I need to talk to you. Call me on my cell phone when you hear this.” Then the piercing beep followed by the automated time, “July 9th, nine thirty pm…”
Oh shit… I thought. I had been home for nearly four hours now and they were probably stuck stranded on the road or something. God, I felt like a jerk. Well, at least I was sober. I could go get them if that was the case. Of course, he could have just sounded so stern because he was tired, and they probably could be just staying the night. Should I call them so late? They do have church in the morning… Oh well, fuck it. They’ll forget about it by the time they get home anyhow if I called them…
I made up my mind to call, and after a few rings, a tired, sleepy voice answered from the other end. The connection was a bit weak, but I could hear my father’s grunting noise as he began to sit upright. He sighed deep and heavily, it gave him enough time to search for his glasses and take a peak at his wrist watch. I was totally expecting a “Mike, I called you over four hours ago…” or a “God, do you know what time it is?” But it never came, instead what he did say was, “Mike, your sister drowned today…”
That was it, no further explanation. I was shocked and did not know what to say. I jumbled mindlessly for a “how, what, why, where, when…” but nothing connected. All that was blurted out was an odd sounding “uuurrgh…?” I wished he would talk again, I could feel he was waiting for a response, but I couldn’t. What exactly do you say to that? You know I used to think about that from time to time, what my response would be if one of my siblings had died, and this was not it. I did not think I would be caught so nakedly dumbstruck. I sat holding the phone tightly against my ear, for what seemed like an eternity. It could have been only seconds, yet lives have been lost in shorter time than that, right? Finally, my father spoke again and relinquished the spell put upon me.
“We’re at the hospital now and Mom’s sleeping with h—”
“WHAT! WHAT THE HELL! I thought you said she was fucking dead?”
“No, OH! No, I’m sorry, she almost drowned…”
You get the picture, or perhaps you do not. Basically she fell in the pool, stopped breathing, and after she was eventually revived, they took her to the hospital and she is now fine. Yikes, he got me there. I guess he was a little tired from the ordeal and he told me that he had just gotten to sleep. I can forgive him; he had been awake for over twenty-two hours at the time, and the stress from the situation probably had blurred his mind as well. Yet, that is almost the scariest moment I have ever had in my short existence in my life. I am quite sure that it was the scariest of my father’s as well today too.
Well, I could probably write a whole crap load of sentimental stuff about how I would miss my sister. And I am sure I could let my audience know what my philosophy is when it comes to how much a family should mean to you and how significant life is, but I will not do so. I think that I will leave you as is, for I am tired of sharing tonight and I think you guys are smart enough to figure that kind of stuff out on your own.
Peace out peoples,
-sib-
ps. Read my Two Thousand Door Poem and tell me if you think it is funny or not…
Anyway, when my mother asked me if I wanted to come along, I of course turned it down. Though I could have easily called off from work, I used the ole play from the lie book to make an excuse to why I would not be attending. Hell, why would I turn down an absolutely great time to spend all alone in my great big house, without such noisy revelries and commotion that usually occurs around here?
Selfishly I said no, and damned if I didn’t deserve it. ‘Sides, they were going to be only gone one day. No, not a night too, just the day they would be gone and then drive the six hour drive back home tonight. I was happy to get the house for at least part of the day, yet saddened that I wouldn’t get the night too. I wouldn’t mind having a couple beers while I sat motionlessly on the couch, or endlessly in front of the dull light radiating from my computer screen. But we got to take what we can get, right? So I won’t complain.
Well, off to work I went for another fruitless night of four hours and no money earned. I got off relatively early, as I hoped to, just to bask in the chance of silent house savoring. I knew that my family probably wouldn’t be home for a good hour or two, so I simply watched the Reds win again on TV, and then crawled back downstairs to my laptop to do some homework. The hours just flew right by me. It wasn’t until 2:30am that I noticed that they were still not home.
What the hell? I asked myself. They should be home, unless they got a really, and I mean really, late start back home. And if you knew my father, and you guys don’t so I’ll fill you in, this never happens. Sure, other Merz’s are notorious for arriving “fashionably late.” But when it comes to my father, let’s just simply say that he never gets home later then 12am. If it was a ten hour drive, he would have left as soon as he got there, just to be home by midnight. That is the way he is, and besides it is “God’s Day” tomorrow. He has to go to church early in the morning, and God forbid he goes to a late mass. No, it was 2:30 in the morning and something was definitely amidst.
Immediately I thought they had chosen to stay the night after all up there. It doesn’t sound unreasonable. There are catholic churches everywhere these days, I hear. They were probably having a good time, and they wanted to continue on their stay for a visit on Sunday too. So, I go to check the machine, which I saw blinking earlier but neglected to check because I only do that when they are on extended vacations (simply because it is not my house or machine and no one ever calls for me anyhow). If they were staying another day, I figured they would leave a casual message telling me so, even though they would know I would never think to check it, they’d do it just as a precaution. Check every “T” and dot you know what, just for good measure’s sake.
“You have nine unheard messages…” the answer-bot gladly told me.
Greeeeeaaaat… I thought to myself. God I hate that machine. It is always such a pain in the ass because you can never skip messages without erasing them. So I had to hear every God damned trivial one to the last. While listening half-heartily to all the messages, I got to kind of regretting the fact that I could have gone out and gotten myself a sixer or something. I was kind of upset that it was now past two in the morning when I could have listened to these earlier. Ah the regret, how simple I can be sometimes. Finally, on the ninth message a stern voice interrupts my thoughts as I am washing a soup bowl I had just currently eaten out of.
“Mike, it’s Dad” he paused. “Pick up the phone it’s urgent, and I need to talk to you. Call me on my cell phone when you hear this.” Then the piercing beep followed by the automated time, “July 9th, nine thirty pm…”
Oh shit… I thought. I had been home for nearly four hours now and they were probably stuck stranded on the road or something. God, I felt like a jerk. Well, at least I was sober. I could go get them if that was the case. Of course, he could have just sounded so stern because he was tired, and they probably could be just staying the night. Should I call them so late? They do have church in the morning… Oh well, fuck it. They’ll forget about it by the time they get home anyhow if I called them…
I made up my mind to call, and after a few rings, a tired, sleepy voice answered from the other end. The connection was a bit weak, but I could hear my father’s grunting noise as he began to sit upright. He sighed deep and heavily, it gave him enough time to search for his glasses and take a peak at his wrist watch. I was totally expecting a “Mike, I called you over four hours ago…” or a “God, do you know what time it is?” But it never came, instead what he did say was, “Mike, your sister drowned today…”
That was it, no further explanation. I was shocked and did not know what to say. I jumbled mindlessly for a “how, what, why, where, when…” but nothing connected. All that was blurted out was an odd sounding “uuurrgh…?” I wished he would talk again, I could feel he was waiting for a response, but I couldn’t. What exactly do you say to that? You know I used to think about that from time to time, what my response would be if one of my siblings had died, and this was not it. I did not think I would be caught so nakedly dumbstruck. I sat holding the phone tightly against my ear, for what seemed like an eternity. It could have been only seconds, yet lives have been lost in shorter time than that, right? Finally, my father spoke again and relinquished the spell put upon me.
“We’re at the hospital now and Mom’s sleeping with h—”
“WHAT! WHAT THE HELL! I thought you said she was fucking dead?”
“No, OH! No, I’m sorry, she almost drowned…”
You get the picture, or perhaps you do not. Basically she fell in the pool, stopped breathing, and after she was eventually revived, they took her to the hospital and she is now fine. Yikes, he got me there. I guess he was a little tired from the ordeal and he told me that he had just gotten to sleep. I can forgive him; he had been awake for over twenty-two hours at the time, and the stress from the situation probably had blurred his mind as well. Yet, that is almost the scariest moment I have ever had in my short existence in my life. I am quite sure that it was the scariest of my father’s as well today too.
Well, I could probably write a whole crap load of sentimental stuff about how I would miss my sister. And I am sure I could let my audience know what my philosophy is when it comes to how much a family should mean to you and how significant life is, but I will not do so. I think that I will leave you as is, for I am tired of sharing tonight and I think you guys are smart enough to figure that kind of stuff out on your own.
Peace out peoples,
-sib-
ps. Read my Two Thousand Door Poem and tell me if you think it is funny or not…
the Omnipotent... Everybody loves SuperInsignificantBoy wrote this at 3:36 AM
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