Monday, December 25, 2017

A lot about hazelnut candy

Ron continued to be very moody, right up until the time my uncle arrived.  Ron had sent my aunt a couple of text messages, but he wouldn't tell me what they were about.   When I asked her, she said she could handle him. 

I kept telling Ron, my aunt and uncle are strong-minded people.  If they don't want to do something they will say so.  He persisted in saying they were taking me to their house because they were "being nice". 

If they didn't want me, they wouldn't have invited me.  I knew that. 

Anyway, my uncle showed up, wanted to talk to Ron.  He got a good idea why Ron was staying home, but persisted in giving him some cordial cherries (Ron has eaten most of them already) and some sausage balls. 

Then we left.  We had uneventful trips both ways, my uncle drove me there, my aunt brought me back.  We had dinner.  They liked my sweet potato pie.  Well, it wasn't "mine", I got it at Walmart, but they found it interesting if nothing else. 

We had fun talking.  I saw a couple of my cousins and one cousin in law.  I got some gifts, and some gifts for Ron (nothing major for Ron).  I gave my aunt her gifts, she seemed to like them. 

It was nice to be around people who weren't wishing they would end in their next breath, yelling at God, or getting hammered on cheap vodka.  After 4, though, I decided I'd better go home. 

My aunt took me.  I had some evangelism material I gave to the girls at the gas station where I got some drinks.  We had an uneventful ride home.  My aunt gave me a big hug and told me she loved me, and I could tell she meant it. 

I will try to compact a long story.  Basically, my Dad loves gravy, all gravy, with a deep and abiding passion generally reserved for chocolate.  He loves it hot, he loves it cold.  He just loves it. 

At dinner, I sent him a picture message of the gravy boat as a joke.  He said it looked good, they were just sitting down to dinner.  So I called about an hour and a half later.  My adoptive Mom said they were just sitting down to dinner, they would call me back. 

So I stay up, waiting, to see if they'll call.  If they don't call in the next half hour (8PM my time) I will turn off my phone and go to bed.  I can't afford to miss out on my sleep tonight, especially considered last nights "sleep" could only be considered more a "nap".  Missing out on my sleep two nights in a row would be catastrophic. 

Ron woke up eventually.  He said thank Mom for the Almond Roca (she wanted a food treat for him, I suggested).  He ate half the cordial cherries and some of the Ferrero Rocher. 

A story on them (the Ferrero Rocher).  Ron's accident was January 7, 2003.  The day that will live in infamy.  When it was apparent Ron would not be waking up immediately, ready to go back to work, Ron's Dad sort of adopted me.  He brought me snacks.  He brought me coins wrapped up in foil, for the vending machine.  He spent time with me waiting to see if Ron would make it.   He cared.  My love language is quality time and he sure pegged that. 

And one time he brought me a half-eaten box of Ferrero Rocher hazelnut candies.   Being an emotional eater, and a chocolate lover, you can bet I ate them.  I thought it was very sweet. 

A lot of people would probably say, Oh, how tacky, to bring you half a box.  Well, that's all he had.  He couldn't afford to bring me a new box, because they were expensive.  He was spending a lot on gas and parking at the medical center.  He probably got the box for Christmas in 2002 and hadn't finished it at the time of Ron's accident.  But he thought of me and that's all I cared about. 

I still miss Ron's dad.  He was cool. 

22 minutes.  Better hurry up.  I am dead serious about going to bed at 8. 

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

"I still miss Ron's dad. He was cool." He couldn't have been that cool since he dumped is son after his accident. I just don't get it.

Heather Knits said...

Well, Ron's Dad always expected his other two children to take care of him as he aged. Ron, clearly, even when he was "Just" blind, couldn't do it. Although he could have helped a lot.

Anyway, after the accident, for a few months, Ron's Dad was completely, 100%, on Ron's side, which also meant he was on my side.

Ron's brother and sister didn't want to help out, which was fine for me. I didn't want their "help" if they were going to make it expensive. If you wanted to help, great, but if you don't that's fine too. They saw it as more polarized. Either Ron went into a nursing home, or he was dead to them. And if he was dead to them he was dead to everyone.

I believe they told Ron's Dad he had to choose, between them (who would presumably "help" him out in his later years) or Ron (who couldn't "help"). Until that point Ron's Dad was great, he would come to visit while I took a shower, keep an eye on Ron, feed the cat french fries, bring Ron fried chicken, stuff like that. He even brought us an extra commode they had.

Then, one day, he stopped coming over and asked for the commode back. He was very embarrassed and ashamed. I knew something had happened. That's pretty much the last we saw of him. Ron tried to patch it up over a period of years but he wasn't receptive any more.

Oh, and his "loving" children put him in a nursing home the minute he developed dementia. He died a few years ago.

Anonymous said...

Shame people make the wrong choices in life.