In the several posts about migraines that I've subjected you to recently, I don't know that I've really talked about motion sickness and migraines. The short version is that pretty much every time I fly, I get a migraine, and usually the next day, too. I got home from visiting my mom on Tuesday, and two days later I'm still feeling miserable. Ugh. Fingers crossed for better head health tomorrow.
The combination of feeling like crap more than 48 hours after my plane landed back at home, combined with the after-effects of a visit to the southern states seems to have reawakened my inner shrew because I have been playing very loud music (a sure sign of anger for me) and slamming around the house all afternoon --which is, of course, great for getting laundry done and finishing my unpacking and cleaning the sinks.
I’m getting off track here, that is not what this post was going to be about. Actually, what it should be about is an entire post in praise of my amazing younger sister, who is shouldering the burden of my mom's care with only occasional respites from her two sisters who live very far away. I will never be grateful enough.
I've spent quite a bit of time in this blog proclaiming my Crone Pride (can we get a gray rainbow? T-shirts? tote bags?). I've talked about embracing our age instead of running away from it and making ourselves ridiculous by chasing after youth. But I have to tell you after spending five days with my 88-year-old mom, there are a lot of things about getting old that just flat-out SUCK.
She always tries to be sweet and kind, but you can tell she hates it. She can't do 10% of what she could do 25 years ago. She doesn't cook or entertain or keep her apartment clean, she can't drive or go shopping or even go to church. It's all just too painful, not to mention too much trouble. And although she will probably recover from her current injuries (she's fallen twice in the last two weeks, but thankfully no broken bones, just bruises and a re-awakened blood clot), she's never going to be her competent younger self again.
She is not of the generation or the personality to get mad about it, so she's being pretty stoic, but I realized on the last day that I was mad for her. It just SUCKS. This is not what she wants for herself, and it's not what any of the rest of us want either. If she falls again, we're going to have to deal with getting her into assisted living, and although her daughters will breathe easier if someone is keeping a closer eye on her, it is absolutely not what she wants. Not to mention that she wouldn't be able to keep her cat. Ugh.
So that's one source of my anger. The other is being back down there. I have such a love-hate relationship with the land of my youth. There's nothing like it. I love it: the food, the drawl, the enthusiasm, the 80-degree weather in late October. There are ways I feel comfortable there that I rarely feel here, even though we've lived here 32 years, and that's far longer than I ever lived there. But at the same time, it also brings up so much anger in me, because I can still feel that suffocating pressure to be something that I never could be, as hard as I tried. Oh, how hard I tried.
Anyway. Being there, in combination with the election and reading the news and hearing it discussed everywhere around me, brought up a lot of anger. There are things about the men in that environment that I cannot understand.
It's like there's this structure that exists in their heads, that has very little to do with reality. It's a created reality, an act of will. Reality is Like This, because that's what I say it is. You will accept what I say is the truth, regardless of whether or not it actually is true, because it's what I'm telling you. The fact that I have a mistress and maybe even a second family is
irrelevant, you will believe that I am a fine, upstanding family man.
(Hmmm. Maybe this
has more to do with the news than the south.) It's part power play, part inspired leadership, part gamesmanship. And it has to be said-- part knowing your audience and how to hook them in. Based on the response of the Trump base, there are a whole lot of people out there who really respond to that coercive power structure. It seems to be what they want.
And there is a corollary that I really can't understand. There is this undercurrent, largely unspoken, that discrimination against women, sexual harassment and rape, the casting couch, the women who have felt they must, uh, put out, to get ahead-- that's all the fault of women. And especially of feminists. I cannot wrap my brain around this. How is the fact that someone is addicted to porn the fault of feminists? (a statement I actually overheard) How is the fact that women want to be free to express their sexuality (in the same way that men always have been able to) an open invitation to grope, threaten, coerce, and rape?
Get some personal responsibility, dude. That's your problem. Like I said, there's some structure in their heads that tells them that if women are mistreated, it's the women's fault, it can't be their fault, they're just innocent victims of a slander campaign. Do they really still believe that they can't be blamed for being sexually aggressive because that's "just the way men are"? They can't possibly, can they?
See? this isn't quite saying what I mean to say. And of course #notallmen. I just deleted more. Maybe I will just say this. Twenty-five-ish years ago, back at the turn of the millennium, not long after --hmmm, I thought it was Time magazine, but I can't find it-- not long after a magazine named feminism as the most influential movement of the twentieth century, I read a response piece that said-- if that is true, then maybe the 21st century will be about men figuring out masculinity. Because it's a mess out there right now, and it seems like it is getting worse before (we hope) it will get better.
And I still didn't say it well. But I've been thinking about it. Lots.