I had a funny exchange that I would like to record for my future self. I was at the barn this morning, taking Rascal’s wraps off his legs in the crossties, when Caitlin mentioned she was going to go golfing later in the day and she said, “The two things you don’t have to be good at to enjoy: sex and golf.” I started laughing my ass off and she said, “That’s why I love golf; it’s all about that one shot and that one hole.” Then I was in hysterics and I said, “Is that your attitude toward sex as well?” She hit me, feigning offense. I was amused for long afterward.
My father has begun to act like a normal person. I spent the past two evenings eating dinner with him at my grandmother’s and having perfectly normal, father-to-daughter discussions. He no longer shakes uncontrollably or stutters when he and I disagree about something. In fact, he was telling me about how my cousin Mike (who I am actually very curious about, due to the things I have been hearing about him) and him used to get along, but Mike has become convinced that he knows the Truth and Secrets of Life, and “he gets so passionate when he speaks that he is actually shaking, yes actually shaking, as if he can hardly contain himself, and he gets so angry and worked up that it’s impossible to carry on an intellectual argument with him.” It reminded me of the way I used to be when I was dating Alex: the views I would express about the oneness, and curing the world of apathy. I told my dad I knew how Mike felt because I used to feel that way until I realized that it is impossible to know everything and even if you are convinced you know more than other people, it is impossible to live a decent life and have decent interactions with people until you accept that other people are entitled to their own opinions and if you were in their shoes you would probably disagree with you too.
But more importantly it was strange to hear my dad talking about Mike’s flaws, which were previously his own, in a manner proving that he no longer had them. This also occurred when he began telling me about how my evil aunt Aimee exploits Sochi, her maid, who is a lovely 30-year-old woman who has worked for her for almost 15 years, sending her meager $200/week paychecks to her starving family in Mexico, and about how Aimee never lets her go out or make friends because she is afraid she will meet a man or learn English and somehow become enlightened about how much my aunt is jipping her.
My grandmother had been constantly telling us to please speak Spanish, please speak Spanish (she cannot understand English) but it is hard for me to converse with my father in Spanish because I haven’t practiced in a while and the things we talk about typically require complicated terminology that I have forgotten. At this point she got out of her chair (she is normally quite calm and pleasant and reasonable) and began shouting with a panicked air:
(translated literally from the Spanish)
Abuela: “Stop it Marco, stop it! You are poisoning her blood with that talk!”
Marco: “…and I’ve told Sochi, you know, pulled her aside and tried to explain to her that Aimee is just using-”
Abuela: “Oh Marco, you and your terrible attitudes toward your own family; families are supposed to love each other; your sister loves you and you have always, you have always…stop! Stop! Be quiet! Jean don’t listen to him”
Marco: “but she just doesn’t KNOW she doesn’t SEE”
Abuela: “You are poisoning her blood! Stop stop, please, please”
Marco: “I am not poisoning her blood. It’s not like I’m shaking uncontrollably with anger and growing claws and spitting, I am merely stating the facts, objectively and calmly.”
Me: “Don’t worry abuelita. I don’t judge people based on what others say, only on what I experience.”
Abuela: “Oh of course, of course, girl. I’m sorry, I am just…I have an upset stomach, and you know how I get, and how he gets…”
Soo amusing. And then my father gave me some advice on my short story which I sent him and it was really incredible, it was like advice straight from a creative writing professor, about replacing certain redundancies and dull words with vibrant details. I was amazed and am having some trouble understanding how it is that my sick father and I can carry on a more intelligent conversation than my physician mother and I.
I ate sushi with Rachele today and it was absolutely lovely. I wish she lived in the same city as me; I share more in common with her than with any of the friends I have in Los Angeles or San Diego.
I am not much in a writing mood right now, I’m exhausted after a full day of physical activity. Will write soon.
