I am frequently amazed at my capacity for disappointment. I have long believed that people don't change, at least not in fundamental ways. Yet when people consistently behave badly it still pisses me off and disappoints me even though I have no reason at all to expect anything else.
After putting it off for way too long I finally cleaned out our storage unit, got rid of most everything and brought a small amount of stuff home. It' a great relief to be out from under the $80/month I've been spending for no good reason. Some of what I brought home were scrapbooks of old photos, including a truly wonderful book my grandmother kept of pictures of my father from birth through adulthood. It was meticulously captioned, and each page is full of pictures: "1 month." "2 months." "3 months." And on and on, right through college, and including pictures of him with my mother when they first met, when they married, when they had us kids. There were some framed pictures of his father, and of my grandmother.
So. I decided to try and do a nice thing. I didn't really want the clutter of more pictures, and there's not going to be anybody who wants them when I'm gone. But I thought maybe my brother would like to have them--I packed up and sent several scrapbooks, some award plaques given to my father for various achievements and contributions, and some of the framed photos.
I also had a large, framed montage of newspaper articles and obituaries that appeared in various papers when my father died. After my dad's death, Philip put all of that together and had it framed for me. I thought my nephew would like to have it, so I sent it to him with a note.
And the bottom line? Not a word from anybody. Not. One. Word. Why do I try to be nice?
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