"In my day we didn't talk much about happiness."
I'm still trying to process yesterday's lunch with my estranged sister.
She and I haven't seen each other in 11 years, when my Mom's death forced us into a mutual meeting at the funeral. Prior to that, we hadn't seen each other in 20 years. I originally cut off all ties because she tried to blame an argument she'd had with my biological father on the fact that I was Gay. Yeah, fuck that. Ironically, it took my recently cutting virtually all ties with my biological father after he threw me out for my sister and I to talk again. She yesterday drove down from Astoria to help my biological father check out an assisted living complexes, but took a few hours to come visit me at the new apartment.
It was a somewhat surreal experience. At first, I didn't really recognize her. She looked so different to me. I mean, I guess I looked the same to her, considering that we're practically strangers after all this time. After showing her around my apartment ("It's so cute!"), we decided to have lunch. We headed over to the Clackamas Shopper Center and ate at Red Robin, which is a favorite of hers (it wasn't half bad for me, either). We spent the next couple of hours talking, but I quickly saw that most of the conversation was going to center around her, her family, her grandkids, her house, her back yard, her bears (she has a pair that roam beyond the fence in the rear). No prompting from her with questions about my life, in keeping with my belief that straight relatives on average really don't want to hear about the life experiences of their Gay family member.
I'm not really sure what the whole point of the lunch was and even less sure of what will happen now. We were very civil, but cooly so. She offered to have me come visit ("I'll drive down to get you!") but I was noncommittal. She drove me back home, and suddenly it was over. I sent a text to again thank her for lunch, but despite being a person who spends all her time texting, she has yet to respond. I'm fine with that.
Now for Another Hot Guy.
She and I haven't seen each other in 11 years, when my Mom's death forced us into a mutual meeting at the funeral. Prior to that, we hadn't seen each other in 20 years. I originally cut off all ties because she tried to blame an argument she'd had with my biological father on the fact that I was Gay. Yeah, fuck that. Ironically, it took my recently cutting virtually all ties with my biological father after he threw me out for my sister and I to talk again. She yesterday drove down from Astoria to help my biological father check out an assisted living complexes, but took a few hours to come visit me at the new apartment.
It was a somewhat surreal experience. At first, I didn't really recognize her. She looked so different to me. I mean, I guess I looked the same to her, considering that we're practically strangers after all this time. After showing her around my apartment ("It's so cute!"), we decided to have lunch. We headed over to the Clackamas Shopper Center and ate at Red Robin, which is a favorite of hers (it wasn't half bad for me, either). We spent the next couple of hours talking, but I quickly saw that most of the conversation was going to center around her, her family, her grandkids, her house, her back yard, her bears (she has a pair that roam beyond the fence in the rear). No prompting from her with questions about my life, in keeping with my belief that straight relatives on average really don't want to hear about the life experiences of their Gay family member.
I'm not really sure what the whole point of the lunch was and even less sure of what will happen now. We were very civil, but cooly so. She offered to have me come visit ("I'll drive down to get you!") but I was noncommittal. She drove me back home, and suddenly it was over. I sent a text to again thank her for lunch, but despite being a person who spends all her time texting, she has yet to respond. I'm fine with that.
Now for Another Hot Guy.