I don’t know why I do it to myself but sometimes I just hope that Someone would consider us for a change.
I have never hidden the fact that my family (other than Bro in NZ) and I are not close.
It is just one of those things, and sadly as time progresses, the gap gets bigger, though I keep trying to plug it. Hubby wonders why I bother but I can’t seem to stop myself.
I suppose you have to understand that some siblings are totally different, have a different set of values and handle visitors differently. The linked posts herein give you an idea of where I’m coming from.
I am thankful that my mother is safe and cared for as she lives with my sister. She is happy there, and enjoy visits from family members of the other four generations. I appreciate it’s not easy for my sister and though I tried to do my bit in the past, these days I am seen as not sharing the responsibility.
I am now considered a distant relative in more ways than one, so perhaps I gave up the right of being in anyone’s mind or thoughts when I moved away, though I always kept in touch.
Since becoming one of many couples now living afloat, we have been down to visit once a month, usually taking Mum out to lunch and then coming home. I don’t begrudge that.
I never have and enjoy treating Mum whenever possible and however our pocket allowed.
Although the mileage and journey time is considerably less so fuel costs are lower now, taking Mum out to lunch is not exactly a sandwich or McD job. At the moment money is tight, and quite honestly, we do not have £35 spare to treat her as on previous visits.
My sister has NEVER offered us a meal whenever we’ve visited, regardless of how many miles we’ve travelled or how long the journey took to get there, let alone the journey back. We may be lucky and be offered a cup of tea/coffee with the possibility of a biscuit, but a meal? No chance.
I decided to send an email expressing a wish to visit one day next week, but apologising for not being able to afford to take Mum out for lunch. It was a subtle hint asking to be fed.
I got a reply back today.
‘Don’t worry about lunch, I can probably make you a sandwich. If you’re lucky, there may be some cake left.’
Whenever we have visitors (even here on the boat), first thing offered is tea or coffee, biscuits if I have them. Our friend turned up unexpectedly a couple of weeks ago, and I could have made our as yet unprepared meal stretch to three, but suggested instead we go out to the pub for dinner as with 2 dogs and three adults on board, there wasn’t a lot of space. We paid of course, otherwise I wouldn’t have mentioned it.
However, if we had been in the house, a hot meal would have been the norm and a bed for the night if they’d travelled any distance.
It’s called hospitality.
The nearest we get is the 2 ‘t’s
Wonder what’ll be in the sandwich?