The family time machine.

[tedwords]

“The happy family is a myth for many.” ― Carolyn Spring

My friend pondhopper recently wrote a post about sisterly relations, and mentioned that "dealing with her is worse for my health than what ails me," which I thought was a clever way to express the situation. It also reminded me of my own troubled relationship with my sister Laurie, who I saw for the first time since the pandemic on Mother's day, when all of us gathered for the first time as a family. 

You'd think that something like a pandemic would keep everyone on their best behavior and sure enough, it was actually a really nice day. No one fought, the food was delicious, and the conversation around the dinner table flowed nice and easy. I honestly didn't want it to end. 

I do know, however, that Laurie had been coached by my father to be on her best behavior, and given what had occurred Thanksgiving 2019, the last time I saw her, I am not surprised. In contrast, that was an evening I couldn't wait to end, and something we all still talk about (well, maybe not my sister Laurie) to this day. 

Laurie is a resident of Nevada, so it was her first time back home for Thanksgiving in over 30 years. It will probably be her last. So much bad happened I am not sure I have the room to type it all up. In fact, because of that, I did a quick check and I don't think I ever did write about it, although I thought about doing so many, many times. 

The day of hell actually started a few days before, when we had a 50th birthday celebration for my sister Kerrie. My sister Laurie had returned "home" to stay with my folks and attend a high school reunion, celebrate Kerrie's birthday, and Thanksgiving. 

The birthday began at a Brazilian restaurant and ended up at my parents' house. And from my perspective, all went well. Laurie and I were civil to each other and even had some...well, kind of...heartfelt exchanges. Keep in mind, we have never gotten along, at least not since I was five, and we used to bounce on mattresses singing "Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves" out loud. (Clearly I was gay even then.)

Turns out instead, Laurie and my brother Tommy were the ones bickering. It all seemed to me to be playful at the time, but in retrospect, there was a bit of underlying aggression. For example, Laurie's partner Jen had come along for the ride, and Jen is very controlling of Laurie. She was certainly part of the reason things went so badly out of control. 

Like I said, it was all juvenile shit, at first. For example, Jen does not approve of Laurie eating snacks. So for some reason, Tommy thought it would be funny to take all of the snack foods and potato chips in the house and place them under Laurie's pillow, so Jen would yell at her later. 

At another point, Tommy, who is a heavy guy, said he had to go to the bathroom, and Laurie gave him the side eye and said, "Can you make sure you go downstairs, please? Jen and I use that toilet." So Tommy, annoyed, not only used that toilet but also took her tube of toothpaste and smeared it all over the lid, so she would sit on it later on. Laurie was so offended she refused to sit on it and ended up buying a new toilet seat, instead.

Little things, you know? I think had we only been together one day it would have all been nothing. But it was all just a prelude. Thanksgiving dinner was at Tommy's, so of course the day before, Tommy and his wife Lisa were busy getting ready for the incoming horde. I'm sure a lot of us know how stressful that can be. But right in the midst of it, Laurie called Tommy and said, "Tommy, Jen and I just bought a TV for mom and dad. Can you please do me a favor and help get rid of the old one?"

"Sure," said Tommy. "I can take care of it in a few days, if that's okay." 

"That's not okay," said Laurie. "We want it done now." 

"Laurie, can't it wait? I have a lot going on her preparing for Thanksgiving, and--"

"We'd really appreciate it if you'd help mom and dad out and take care of it this afternoon." 

Well, Tommy, feeling the stress and in the midst of a million things for the next day, told her to F-off and hung up the phone. (Also, note: the TV was actually purchased because Laurie and Jen didn't like the TV that was located in the room they were staying in. It actually had nothing to do with being a favor for mom and dad.)

Unbeknownst to me, the tension was still continuing when we arrived for dinner the next day. In fact (and I only learned this later), Tommy and Laurie continued to have it out while we were eating appetizers, screaming at each other outside on the front lawn. 

But we didn't know that! What we did know was that around this time, Lisa's 90-year-old mother arrived for the dinner. She lives in a nursing home and had that morning decided she wanted Thanksgiving dinner with her daughter, which was cool, but...

"Be careful," the attendants warned as Lisa picked her up, "She's had a bloody nose all morning." 

So, she was carefully placed on a couch in the corner with a large box of tissues, after which, Lisa worked on finishing dinner, scheduled for three. 

Little did she know, but Jen and Laurie had placed a side bet they could get her to delay her meal until five. And so what followed was:

--Jen would find ways to get Lisa to delay putting things in the oven, such as commanding Siri to play dance music as loudly as possible and dancing around the kitchen with my dad.

--My mom would get angry because her husband was dancing around with Jen (which is silly to me, but mom gets super jealous about things).

--Tommy was getting increasingly stressed about the noise level and asking Siri to lower the volume. Jen would ignore him and raise the volume even higher. This must have happened 100 times, until the music was louder than a night club. 

--Meanwhile, Lisa's mother was slowly bleeding out in the corner. As the day went on, the number of bloody tissues surrounding her steadily increased until it resembled a snowstorm. 

Finally, around five (mission accomplished! bet won!) dinner was ready. But, new complication: by this point, Lisa's mom had lost so much blood, Lisa grew concerned and the EMTs had to be called to take her away. Lisa barely was able to finish cooking and lay out the dinner, and then had to drive out to follow her to the hospital.  

Yeah, that kind of puts a dent on the Thanksgiving. By this point, Jen, who had been drinking all afternoon, was pretty much drunk as a skunk, and was so unsteady she spent the rest of the night in her own corner at the dinner table. 

After a rushed dinner, Tommy started to handle clean-up, and feeling badly, I went over to offer him help. But about fifteen minutes in, he started feeling dizzy and said he was having trouble breathing from the stress (remember, seven months later, he was diagnosed with leukemia) and had to step away for a bit. 

My sister Kerrie wisely chose this moment to help finish up with the cleaning and then headed out. Probably for the best, even though it was dessert time. Wish I had followed suit. 

Lisa had been nice enough to specially make me a Boston cream pie, and so after finishing cleaning the dishes I cut myself a great big piece. I moved back into the dining room, where Jen was still drunk in the corner, Laurie was by her side and Tommy had just returned from his rest. 

"Tommy, youandLauriehave to make up," Jen said, as loud as Siri had been earlier in the kitchen. "Youreally are the two kids thatare most like each other. Thisiscrazy. You two really are the closest ofthekids. You're the closest!" 

"Well, besides Kerrie," added Laurie. Then, a beat. She looked over my way. "Oh, and Teddy, too."  

Slowly, I put my fork down. What..? I was just freaking sitting there eating my poor dessert, trying to glean some pleasure out of this miserable day. And then, this? I had been nice all day long! All week, really! No nasty comments, no digs. No need to drag me into this shit. And then, this? A half-ass comment from out of nowhere reinforcing Laurie's twisted belief that, I was somehow an outsider in my family? Lowest of the low? The cursed child? (Oh, and not to mention, logistically speaking, adding ALL of the other kids to "closest ofthekids" kind of defeats the purpose of the statement.)

I could take Jen saying Laurie and Tommy were closest. She was drunk, what do I care? But Laurie...adding in Kerrie...deliberately isolating me again?

Well, I kind of snapped. I rose from the table, put down my fork, and headed out, ready to go. 

"Teddy, where are you going?" asked Tommy. 

"Go fuck yourself, Laurie!" I screamed out. "Go fuck yourself!" 

Well, okay. I got that out of the way. 

But then I repeated it at least 30 times, super loudly.

Cut to huge family intervention, thirty minutes later. 

Aaaaaaaanyway, we didn't talk for quite some time after that. Tommy called to wish her Merry Christmas and she was cold, and he shouted "Go fuck yourself, Laurie" and hung up. I called to do the same and she was equally as cold but I pretended as if I didn't notice it. We really didn't start speaking again until Tommy was hospitalized. 

In writing that down, I realize how much of a role Jen played in the incident, more than Laurie, in many ways. She really seemed to instigate most of it. So perhaps it was wise that she didn't stop by for Mother's day, and maybe that's why things went so smoothly, this time. 

Still, I beat myself up that I allowed myself to lose control. Yes, I was being made to feel left out, again. Still, in many ways, it was the smallest of things, and I should have shrugged it off. But as Tommy says, when the four of us are together, there's a different vibe in the air. 

Things become more volatile. It's like we go back into a time machine and become the kids we were forty years ago, not the adults we are today. Is that the way it is with every family, I wonder? And also, what's the solution? I know it's inside me...I just have to figure out how to push the right buttons on the time machine...