An Absurd Little Bird


I don’t have therapy tomorrow. I knew at the end of last week’s session. She told us that tomorrow’s session and another session later this month would both be cancelled. The first (aka tomorrow’s) was due to something she had to do, but she wasn’t specific about what–and quite frankly, it doesn’t matter why she cancels. The second (the 26th) was for her vacation. She didn’t know if we’d be meeting on July 3rd, but she said that, as far as she knows, those 2 days would be the only cancellations for a while. Of course, 2 cancellations when you only have 4 days scheduled is still a bit bad, but it’s cool.1

And it takes almost a week to decompress and de-agitate myself after that group meets, so I’m more than happy to not have to go this week. I know that usually I whine a bit when she cancels, but I’m starting to learn that I have my limits. Also, it was really considerate to tell us upfront about sessions we wouldn’t be having, instead of having her call the day before or, worse, the day of a session to let me know it would be cancelled. Early notice is always nice to have.

My dad and mom have been discussing my grandfather lately. My dad apparently had a dream where his dad sold some of my dad’s stuff without talking to my dad first. My mom brought up that he had sold a pair of bikes that he had just gotten for the two of them before they could get here to pick them up. My dad didn’t understand why he would do that sort of thing, knowing that it would hurt someone’s feelings.2 I calmly pointed out that he would do that sort of thing because he was a sociopath. He knew that the other person’s feelings would be hurt and he didn’t prevent it because he wasn’t a good person. He was a bad guy. My dad sometimes acts like he wasn’t, which I chalk up to some level of Stockholm Syndrome or a desire to pretend that his dad wasn’t a bad person, but we all know that his dad was not a good man. It’s been almost 20 years since the man died. It’s okay for us to now acknowledge that he did a lot of shitty things to his family while he was alive. There is absolutely no reason for us to continue to be afraid of him.

In a way, it’s hypocritical for me to say that. I’m still terrified by the man. Some of the scariest dreams I have are that he didn’t actually die. In them, he’s still alive and finding new ways to torment us. I get that fear of him quite well. But I allow myself to understand that it is okay to hate him and it is okay to talk about the shit he did. He mistreated us. The only way for us to get over that is to talk about what he did and try to understand that he doesn’t deserve to be revered in any way. His siblings can continue to wax about the wonderful man that they think he was, but we know the truth.3 And we have to accept that to get better.

And, now Nana has called. She apparently asked mom if the aunt has called mom. Mom told her that she hasn’t called in five years. Dad looked over at me and held up one index finger.4 I’m glad he remembered. It was one of the few highlights of this whole feud. It made me feel like she didn’t really hate me, just her idea of what I’m like. Of course, that won’t change the things that have happened. Even if she were to stop hating me at some point, there would be no way to fix the relationship. Mom has started accepting that. Nana still seems to be hesitant about accepting it.

Anyway…I’ve gone almost two days now without being called a terrorist or bigot. Of course, I blocked a lot of ignorant people, so that might be the reason that I haven’t received any messages that suggest that. It’s sad that that had to be the solution to all of that.


  1. I missed quite a few last month after the surgery. 

  2. Selling things that belonged to another person was one of his favorite ways to hurt another person. I think it was his way of letting someone know that he could control their happiness. 

  3. The ones that never lived him, but sing his praises really bug me. 

  4. She did call that time that I picked up. She talked to me for several minutes before realizing who she was talking to. 


About Janet Morris

I'm from Huntsville, Alabama. I've got as many college credits as a doctorate candidate, and the GPA of some of them, too. I have a boss by the name of Amy Pond. She's a dachshund. My parents both grew up in Alabama.