I found this thanks to a friend. sorry i sound so groggy.  enjoy your weekends

There comes a time.

There comes a time:

When convulsive sobs fall upon deaf ears.

When denial is equated with kindness.

When pushing someone away means keeping them safe.

new story.

Rocky Waters

My Family has never had good experiences being on boats. We get seasick, we get irritable, we get drunk, and we get angry and loud. Everyone at our table, immediate family plus grandparents, aunt, step-uncle, and cousin could feel the nervous tension of this family reunion.  My sister had already retreated to her cabin; after a violent bout between my stepsister, aunt, stepmother, and her on the main deck of the boat, she had the common sense to lay low temporarily.

Martinis, wine, just about any alcoholic beverage will do to get my family to yell at one another or embarrass themselves. For a cruise, the number of passengers on the boat was rather small; everyone knew everyone else’s business. The dining hall was in close quarters. The waiters wore plaid and served prefixed meals accompanied by very strong drinks. It was the dead of winter in New York City; this had little effect on us since it was in the high 90s in the Galapagos.

The occasion for the cruise was my grandmother’s 75^th birthday. The jovial spirited lady sat at the end of a long table; next to her, my grandfather, a grumpy old fart who frequently combined the word “fuck” with a part of the body. We might be driving; someone may cut us off at which point my grandfather rolls down his window and bellows: “Get off the road fucknose!”

But I’m getting off topic. The aura of everyone at the table on the surface was warm, perhaps a result of the booze my family had been consuming en masse throughout the meal to tolerate one another. My grandmother, who had just topped off her second or third martini, turned to my brother and with a look of concern, disclosed to him some sage-like advice.

“Henry, my dear, whatever you do, don’t go off marrying some waitress like your father did.”

Her behavior always makes everyone a little ill at ease when she drinks; she becomes this pool of emotions; she repeats herself, and gets angry about her childhood. Yet, what she had said was new and scathing. There was a clatter of silverware as my brother pushed away from the table.

It’s been 4 years; the family has again reconvened on a boat, the memory of the previous trip still sharp in our minds.  My dad and aunt have the ludicrous idea to have the waiters “water down” Grandma’s drinks; they want everyone to play along.

Flash forward 5 days:  I’ve been seasick and have contracted some sort of virus from one of the islands we visit. I feel like crap but I get out of bed and dress for dinner. The tables in the dining hall are in closer proximity to one another than the tables of the previous boat. The people on this boat are bourgeois snobs: rich kids who think they can do and say anything they want; the adults are worse. Our family hopes to win the award for upper-crust white trash family, with our frequent and earthshaking tussles.

I’m at the table. Grandma is drinking.  I don’t really care that she’s sauced to be honest; she’s one of the oldest people here, she financed this trip, I think she’s entitled to do whatever she wants. The only people who she is talking to are my brother and I. We are like two giant pillars seated on each side of her. 

“Tommy.”

“Mhm?”

“I love you soooo much. I think you’re per-fect.”

            I blush slightly, and smile, uncertain of what to say,

“Thanks.”

She then turns her attention to my brother. Henry is much better when it comes to talking to people; grandma is drunk, and he’s laughing and talking to her like it’s nothing. 

            Flash forward: 10 minutes later, the mood of the table has turned savage, my grandmother wants more wine, and wants to know why her kids are trying to control her and don’t trust her.

            “I’m not just some fucking drunk, OK?!” my grandmother says at a level much too loud for this dining room.

            “Mom,” my aunt says patronizingly “don’t yell, and we aren’t watering down your drinks. Right, Tommy?”

She looks at me. I say nothing; I’m not going to tell a lie to someone who’s over 50 years my senior.

My grandmother looks at my grandfather, her finger raised at him like a war spear.

“And this fucking asshole over here, he HATES me, look at him sneering like that! He always tries to control me or make me feel stupid. Well I’ve got news for bucko: I hate you.”

She loves the man dearly in actuality; they just sometimes have a tendency to piss one another off… a lot.  My grandfather looks up, and smiles at her, he laughs, and then with an air of thespian wit he shouts back at her

“I’ve seen what happens after the third martini, Darling!”  

More harsh words are thrown back and forth; they have such an interesting dialogue going that I half expect for them to rise and bow for the audience they have been entertaining this evening.

“Thank you everyone! No, you’re the stars not me!”

The table is silent, in fact, so is the entire dining hall. No one looks at us though; this kind of behavior has come to be expected from our family. My brother has become a nervous wreck; he jitters a little and tries to rise, I grab him. 

“You’re not going to leave me with this shit.”

He sits back down. 

“Who wants dessert?” laughs my step-uncle.

The rest of the table is silent, my aunt pats his hand.

Everyone has become silent. Everyone finishes eating. My grandmother gets the wine she wants. The adults stay and talk, my brother and I head out onto the deck.

“This is ridiculous, I mean, ri-di-cu-lous.”

I shiver. The wind is blowing hard on the deck, its deserted, the water rocks us back and forth, and I remember how nauseous I was. Henry hugs me: it’s a rare occasion that we are this close, and even rarer for us to get along so well.

“I hate this boat,” I say to him

He pats me on the back

“Me too, Thom. Me too.”

           

 

college update

University of Hartford is now offering me a full scholarship.

I will hear back from my other schools soon enough.