I'm going to have a Merry Christmas if it kills me

Last night Ron and I went to Denny's for a couple of hours.  I read the entire menu to Ron.  He kept saying he would remember everything I read, but he didn't.  He kept asking me to go back and repeat. 

I finally told him it was like those manuals for his ham radios and scanners.  He would say he'd remember it, he wouldn't, and I had to keep reading the same instructions to him again and again, until he finally consented to put it on tape.  Once he did that, it was fine. 

Then he got out the digital recorder. 

It was fine at the restaurant.  It was pretty busy but not overly so, and one table with people I am pretty sure were drunk.  Hopefully everyone was a good tipper. 

We came home to find a party in full swing (as expected) at #6.  Kids running around outside and screaming at the top of their lungs.  I did my best to ignore it for an hour and a half or so, and then I went to bed. 

It was pretty cold for us, so the kids went inside after a while and it got quiet enough that I fell asleep.  I woke up around midnight.  A bunch of adults were outside, talking.  As midnight hit they began singing, quite badly, the same thing over again several times.  It had a tricky part with a high note and none of the men could hit it, but it didn't stop them from trying. 

From midnight until well after 3 AM, the adults stayed outside (I guess they were drinking, had brought their coats, or both).  They were gabbling away in Spanish, sometimes yelling, making it impossible to sleep.  Then they started playing music.  I could tell, for them, they were "trying" to be quiet but not doing a very good job.  They also had firecrackers.  At 3 AM on Christmas. 

Now, I have to admit, other neighbors do "pop" firecrackers, etc. around Christmas eve up to midnight.  But they stop at midnight. 

They finally did a big parting scene and then cars started leaving.  It finally got quiet and I went to sleep. 

I woke up around 6-7 AM.  I am programmed to get up early most days.  I went back to sleep.  Well, I tried.  I couldn't really sleep. 

I finally got up around 8. 

Ron was drunk, and belligerent.  He didn't know why I wanted to go to my aunt's house today (one, everyone is sober!).  He said they didn't want me there, they were just being polite, they hated me for "making" them pick me up, etc.  He was so awful I ended up in tears.  He insisted I take a cab one-way to "keep from cutting off his balls". 

Huh?  We have always needed help with transportation.  Nothing new.  However, I keep my drama to myself and I don't ask them for money, so I think I am doing pretty well.  I take all my medication as directed; that's what they really want.  I know they don't care about driving me, they make a little ritual of it, buy my aunt a Coke with lots of ice and just a little soda, etc.  They have fun with it, and that's one thing Ron can't understand. 

I think he is bitter because his family dumped him so fast after the accident.  Ron simply told his brother "Treat Heather with the respect due my wife or I don't want to see you again" and his brother took that and ran.  His sister was even worse, she came and screamed at Ron in the hospital and accused me of "ruining everything" (their happy family mask) before she got out of his life.  Ron tried to "patch it up" with them both for a period of years, but they persisted in acting as though he's dead. 

When Ron does die, I don't plan to publish the location of the funeral in the paper.  I will tell those who are interested in attending, but I don't want his family showing up and acting as if they have suffered a loss, pointing fingers at me, etc.  That's the last thing I would need. 

Anyway, he was very ugly and bitter.  I really think a lot of it is envy.  He kept calling them "your parents" and correcting himself, so I think envy is a lot of it.  Although his family's Christmas parties were mainly drinking and talking.  Getting really wasted.  I remember one time Ron was getting sick in the gutter at his parents party, and his brother came along screaming at him to "sit up and vomit like a man".  I kid you not. 

We lived on the third floor, no way Ron was getting up those stairs.  So I told Ron's brother I would take his keys and money, and leave him downstairs.  Ron's brother didn't like that and somehow got Ron up the stairs to his bed. 

They didn't like anything I did with Ron.  Anyway, as far as I'm concerned no loss, but I think it still resonates for Ron. 

They wanted him in a nursing home.  If they couldn't get that they didn't want a part of his life.  They were done with "helping" (I can certainly relate to that). 

So, now I'm stuck with 3 Christmas presents I need to unwrap.  Ron is so bearish I don't dare suggest it now. 

I am certain he has been drinking, this morning. 

I'm going to take a shower, do my God Time, and see if his mood has improved.  If it has, I will open presents with him.  If not, I will open the presents on my own (they are all just generic Amazon boxes, I don't know who gets what). 

I was dying to make some serious noise outside at 6 AM and wake up #6, but I figure the kids are waking him up right now anyway.  They certainly didn't get any more sleep than I did. 

What a stupid ritual, staying up all night on Christmas.