If I were in a better mood, I might spend the evening ranting about my deep and total hatred of Hillbilly Elegy — a book whose popularity offended me more than any bestseller in recent memory — and its odious author, J.D. Vance. But tonight I’m still congested, still can’t taste or smell, and to top it all off I have cramps, which is a slap in the face (or uterus). Over-the-counter remedies can help with those first and last problems, but there’s something else I’m irritated about that I’m not sure I want to discuss, and it again involves my family.
When Tom asked for my take on her breakup, I thought carefully before sending a note that concluded with a question about whether she’d done the right thing. “You’ll know the answer to that 10 or 15 years from now, when you’re alone with your thoughts at 3 AM,” I said. She wasn’t terribly fond of that or the rest of my observations, but I’d write the same thing 100 times over because unless she’s a delusional narcissist — and I’m hopeful she’s not — she will regret her actions, even if she doesn’t regret the split.
It’s a message I’d repeat to her right now, in fact, about family relations, if she’d listen. But before we get to that, we need some exposition. To make a long story as short as possible, when my youngest sister announced her first pregnancy a few years ago, Tom disapproved for various reasons and the two of them — normally inseparable — were estranged for much of the next nine months as Tom withheld her support. They made up near the end of the pregnancy, which was fortunately healthy and went off without a hitch, and Youngest Sister forgave her.
We didn’t realize it then, but it was the start of a pattern of Tom trying to pit different factions of the family against each other. A couple years later it was my scalp she came for, over something she perceived as a slight against herself when others in attendance thought she’d been antagonistic and aggressive toward me. In response, she essentially tried to make our parents and Youngest Sister choose between the two of us, the pointless rancor quickly cooling when there was a family emergency and a frightened Tom’s first impulse was to call me for help.
We moved on from that mini-drama without much discussion, but I was reminded of it on Saturday, when Tom decided for the second time to try to vanquish me from the family. My offense was asking for clarification that a proposed gathering would be family-only, which Tom interpreted as a slight against her new girlfriend. As I already recounted, she told me off for that, and then she kept stewing. The next day, she ejected me from a family group chat after adjusting its settings so no one could add me back, and informed our parents I’m not permitted to be in her presence. (She would’ve ejected Youngest Sister after blowing up at her a couple weeks ago, if she wasn’t afraid of losing access to her kids.)
Curiously, she kept Crankenstein in the chat — just the day prior, she’d shaken her down for medical advice — even though we’re equally fed up with Tom’s behavior. Crankenstein left anyway, which apparently threw her into greater upheaval, and we started a new thread with all the same people, minus Tom. “This is so childish,” Youngest Sister and I marveled, and the more we thought about it, the angrier we got that she continues to feel so comfortable “playing dictator,” as Youngest Sister put it. What kind of an asshole attempts to divide a family over every perceived slight?
Crankenstein and I don’t see my family often and there’s nothing wrong with us seeking to avoid or minimize contact with Tom’s pal (who wasn’t going to be there, anyway) when we do. It’s not a moral judgment on their hookup, even though we find it sleazy, it’s that Crankenstein doesn’t socialize with active anorexics or bulimics, which Tom was previously aware of and probably forgot about because she’s so overwhelmed and defensive right now.
“Do you have any idea how stressful our lives are at the moment, and how little we need your nonsense?” I want to ask her, speaking for myself and Crankenstein. “Do you understand the significance of the unanswered questions we have about choking and falling and other things we don’t discuss with you? Do you know how much we currently dread the future? You’re acting like a vengeful idiot because your sisters won’t validate your decision to treat Erica like shit, but have you considered the regret you’ll feel five or 10 years from now if this turns out to be atypical Parkinson’s or Parkinson’s with dementia? Or if one of our parents suddenly died?”
Youngest Sister had the same thought and wants to say similar things to Tom. We’d both feel a lot better about the future, though, if she didn’t need reminding that we all have lives of our own, and that any one of us could be gone tomorrow.
Speaking of tomorrow, I’ll be back with something Pulitzer-worthy: a look at Janis Paige’s wardrobe from her first guest appearance on “Eight is Enough.” It’s even better than what she wore in “Valentine Magic on Love Island.”