Family

What a weird thing to do - write a journal and put it online for any random person to read.  Why not just buy a notebook? 

There’s something about the idea that others may be following along that makes it more real somehow, makes these words matter in a way that words in a notebook wouldn't.  I’m normally very private - partly because it’s just how I am, and partly from growing up surrounded by those who were not very interested in my thoughts or opinions (I exclude Mom and Lacy from this account, of course).

To give an idea of the family dynamics, here’s a mostly faithful recreation of Elizabeth’s reaction to my arrival back home the other day:

Beth is sitting at a table in the large kitchen having coffee: “Oh, Anne. Hi. I wasn’t expecting you today, are you early?”

Me: “Nope, today was the day I emailed you about.  I thought we might all have dinner together tonight. Dad was going to try to clear his schedule.”

Beth shakes her head dramatically. “Oh no, that’s not possible. Dad and I have a very important meeting with our party planner - it was very hard to get her for our event, you know, so we have to accommodate her schedule. I’m sure we can do dinner another night.”

Me: “Oh.  What party is this?”

Beth: “The Solstice party. Didn’t I tell you about it?  Dad and I thought it was time we held one of the famous Elliot fall bashes like Mom used to.  I’m sure people have been missing them. It’s going to be epic!”

Me: “Oh.” I felt pretty sure I knew the answer to the next question, but I always hold out hope, so I asked. “Is it for the same charity Mom threw hers for?”

Beth frowns and looks at me disdainfully. “Holding parties for charity is just not done anymore, Anne.  That would be mortifying - asking someone to buy a ticket for our party? I honestly can’t imagine.  But, you know, we will invite people who otherwise wouldn’t be able to expect an invitation to such an event, and that will do a world of good for them.” Beth waved her hand, indicating that inviting poor, unfortunate people to mix with the fine people of the world was clearly an act of charity and no more needed to be said. 

Possibly I’m exaggerating slightly, but sadly, not much. I didn’t even see Dad until today when we crossed paths at breakfast and he gave me a spiel on smoothies and the amazing wrinkle-fighting power of blueberries.

What kind of greeting should one expect on moving back home at twenty-seven? Maybe they were being polite and not wanting to make me uncomfortable about my situation.  More likely it just slipped her mind that I was returning, or fell lower on the priority list than other things, like party planning. Sometimes I am bothered by my lack of warm relationship with my family, but most of the time… it just is what it is. It’s how it has always been; it is what is normal for us. It would honestly be weirder to have Elizabeth be giddy and excited to see me - that would be seriously unnerving.

Ultimately, my lot in life is pretty good, if the worst complaint I have is that my sisters and I aren’t bffs, well, that’s not bad, right?