Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Sister's Phone Calls

Sister called again today. She left a voicemail when I didn’t pick up. She told me about how her daughter has been teaching herself to play the piano. She told me that her daughter only knows four and a half songs, but that she’s still incredible, and that it’s not just her inner mother saying that. Then she said that she knows it’s a long drive, and that I’m busy with work, but she thinks it would be worth the visit to hear my niece play.
I didn’t call back.
Work was good today. The Millers came in for their weekly group therapy session. Mrs. Miller was annoyed that Mr. Miller didn’t clean up around the house more. Mr. Miller was annoyed that Mrs. Miller keeps nagging him to clean up around the house more. Their son doesn’t say anything. Mr. and Mrs. Miller start to argue. Their son doesn’t say anything. I ask their son how he feels about all of this. He lowers his head and doesn’t say anything.
I recommend to Mr. and Mrs. Miller that they compromise and take turns doing the cleaning. I recommend to their son that he come back to see me for individual therapy.
He doesn’t say anything.

Sister called again today. She left a voice mail when I didn’t pick up. She mentioned that it has been nearly two weeks and I still haven’t called her back. She wonders if I got her message. She told me that her daughter had learned two new songs and one new chord. She went on about how amazing it is that her daughter had taught herself this, and how she must get it from her father, because god knows she didn’t get it from her mother. Sister laughed at her own joke and told me to get back to her.
I didn’t call back.
Work was alright today. Mr. Drake’s stress levels seem to be going up. They were high enough just from the pressure of his job, but now his mother is in the hospital. The doctors aren’t certain of anything at this point, but they suspect it’s cancer. I express my sympathy to Mr. drake, tell him that he should hope for the best, but be prepared for the worst, and remind him that he still needs to have at least an hour of “me time” each day.

Sister called again today. She left a voicemail when I didn’t pick up. She filled me in on the progression of her daughter’s piano escapades, which were going very well. She told me that her husband had left suddenly on an unplanned business trip, and that he was due back in three days. Sister hesitated before she continued telling me about her day. She told me that she ran into our little sister when she was out today. She told me that when she tried talking to little sister the only response she got was when little sister told her to go to hell. Sister told me that she didn’t realize that our little sister was still mad at her. Then sister suggested that I try talking to little sister about this, maybe I could knock some sense into her. Sister joked about the two of us holding an intervention for little sister’s moodiness and inability to let things go. She asked me to call her later to work out the details.
I didn’t call back.
I wasn’t in a good mood during work today. It didn’t help my mood when Ms. Mudge told me that she had bought another cat. I explain to Ms. Mudge for the six hundred and eighteenth time that she was using the cats as an emotional crutch, and that she should be using her energy to confront and deal with her problems, rather than on taking care of her feline friends. I’m 413% sure that not a single word got through to her. Work wasn’t very good today.

Sister called again today. She left a voicemail when I didn’t pick up. Sister cried. She cried and told me that she had gone to visit her husband on one of his business trips. It was his third one this month and she figured that he would be lonely. She told me that she caught the son of a bitch with the woman that they had hired to help their daughter with the piano. She asked me to call her, please call her, because she really needs someone to talk to right now.
I didn’t call back.
Work was better today. It was the miller boy’s first individual therapy session. The first twenty minutes were spent trying to get him to talk. The rest of the session was spent talking about how his parents are too busy fighting to listen to what he has to say, and how every uncomfortable subject gets swept under the rug without a second thought. He said that it’s gotten better since the family started seeing me, though. I smile at him and tell him that I know it’s hard, but he has to try and talk all of this over with his parents, he has to meet them half way, even if it’s by doing something as small as letting himself be heard.

Sister called again today. She left a voice mail when I didn’t pick up. She said that she divorced her husband. They agreed to share custody of their daughter. She told me that little sister stopped by her house earlier this week. She had hear about the divorce and decided that her sister needed her. Sister said that it was strange seeing each other after so long, and that little sister was still angry with her, but they are going to try and work it out. Sister told me that she understands if I’m still mad at her too, but she really hopes that we could try to get better too. She asked me to call her, and the three of us could all go out for ice-cream together like we did when we were kids.
I didn’t call back.
Mr. Drake’s mother passed away this week. He cried through the whole session. He said that he was glad she was no longer suffering, though. She had been diagnosed with cancer over two years ago. There was so much that he still wanted to talk about with her.

Sister called today again. She left a voicemail when I didn’t pick up. I expected it to be like the last few, her apologizing and then asking me to call her back. It wasn’t like that. Sister shouted that she’s sick of this holier than thou act that she has had to put up with. She said that if I hate her, fine! If I think she’s a monster, great! If I never want to hear her voice again, wonderful! But at least have the decency to say it to her, goddamn it! Because she may have been an awful sister, but she’s still my family and I at least owe her that! Sister told me that if I ever wanted to talk then call, because she’s done wasting her time with me.
I was shocked speechless. After everything, she thinks that she can speak to me like that? I don’t get angry though. I don’t think about what sister said to me in her voicemail. Instead I think about the Millers, and how their inability to communicate left their son feeling isolated. I think about Ms. Mudge, who forces herself to ignore he problems by distracting herself with cats. I think about Mr. Drake, and of all the things he still wanted to say to someone he loved, all the things that he’s never going to get the chance to say now that his mother’s gone.

I think about all of these things, and I dial my sister’s phone number.

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