Alone Time

So I got in the car today and realized that it was the first time in nearly two weeks that I have been truly alone. By myself. AAAAaaalone. Like the 80s song, only not sad- but more triumphant and rare. I've even been sharing a bed with my sister (until she left Thursday). I will say- I enjoyed the alone time. I made the best of it by calling Nancy and talking without worry that someone was waiting on me, needed me, heard me, etc. I am looking forward to going home, but I am also feeling good about what is going on here. Things in Grandmother's apartment look pretty good. The staff at the place seem pretty friendly. My parents are making plans and doing good things. Grandmother will see one or both of my parents 4 times a week. And it is not too much for anyone. This makes me happy.

And now I'm trying to think of what I really want to write about. It was interesting watching the interaction between my Grandmother and Dad as the past stories are brought up- particularly Dad's acceptance and journey through college at the Air Force Academy. I don't think I ever really thought very much about the fact that he really did not have a good time in college. It's kind of amazing that he let all three of us girls go and do the big ridiculous college thing. He could have reacted in the opposite way to his lacking of a real college experience. Instead- he was happy to watch us go- and enjoyed living slightly vicariously through us. It struck me that Dad has never been back to the academy. Not once since he graduated. That's intentional. Even as he was talking about it- I could hear something in his voice that was sort of cold and distant about the whole thing. He didn't sound resentful. It was more a disappointed acceptance that he just never got to experience a real college. Grandmother could pick up on his lack of enthusiasm for the school and kept saying how proud she was of him and how it was so good for his career and how he was going to make her feel guilty about letting him go there if he kept talking about how hard it was. It was a little tense- I even muttered under my breath to Dad that he may want to reassure her about the whole thing. He didn't. Not really. He deflected the topic a little- but he ever actually said it was a good thing, and when she asked if he regreted it- he didn't say yes, but he didn't say no. I think that Dad enjoyed and appreciated most of his military career- but he was always kind of on the fringe of the military mentality. As well as he can fit into that mold- he didn't buy the whole kit. I'm eternally grateful for that. He didn't turn into an asshole fighter-pilot. He retired in his flight suit. When Grandmother assumed he retired full colonel and he said no, it was just lt. colonel- and she was kind of like- oh well no matter. I could feel a little tension. It was strange. Then it sort of hit me. Dad has issues (had/has) with his parents. Opa was demanding and stubborn- his rank made it so that Dad was commissioned first in hs class and he made Dad memorize the commissioning speel. No one else did and Opa was disgusted. Grandmother expected you to do what was best and the way she showed it was by smothering you with her pride if you did one thing so that you felt awful to do another. At the same time- I can see her as a gentle and firm mother. Dad is closer to his mother than he was Opa... and I think Dad is surprisingly gentle and sweet with us considering how stoic both his parents were. I've never seen Grandmother cry. or my Dad. The closest I ever saw was when Grandmother went to the rehab place after her hospital stay (vicodin erases everything) and she realized she wasn't home yet. She was so scared. But no tears.

How can someone not ever cry?

Anyway. That was interesting - and there were more bits and pieces to that conversation tonight - but those were some of the more interesting parts. It's so funny how no matter how far you get into adulthood- there's still small pieces of you that believes your parents are perfect- or at least don't really recognize that they are who they are because of a whole host of reasons hidden from your eye- their past being a huge part of it. I'd never heard my Dad talk much about the academy- and tonight was the first time I really took notice of that.

by the way- my parent's house makes all sorts of funky noises that I don't know yet and it freaks me out. their AC for one is obnoxious.

ok- going to bed. with family history and wonky AC on the brain.