Ambivalent: Daily Update 23/30

While it’s drawing to a close on here, I’m realizing that this writing endeavor is going to exceed the 50k word count by thousands.  I’m still debating as to whether or not I’ll be continuing with daily goals and daily blog updates of progress beyond the 30th, but until then:


Tonight’s update gives the reader a little bit of insight as to what it was like for my family when Bobby got clingy with our grandparents and I stayed at home with my mom.  It’s a short entry, because I spent a good portion of the day out shopping with all of the other crazies.  The good news: the weekend is just now beginning!  Hope you all have a great one.  Until tomorrow…


Aun Aqui


In the New Port Richey home, we lived about 45 minutes away from where Grammy and Grampy lived in Clearwater, but that didn’t stop mom from driving us over to visit them at least two or three times a week.  Bob and I would lounge on Grampy’s big, king-sized bed and watch TV in his room while mom sat out in the living room with grand dad. Mom’s supervision offered Grammy a break; sometimes she’d nap with the free time, and sometimes she’d go outside for a walk, but most of the time, she either work on cleaning the house or sit in the living room with grand dad and mom.  She loved visiting with her daughter.

“Lucy, the gas is getting expensive,” dad mentioned at our house one evening.  He sounded annoyed.

“So?” She answered absentmindedly from the computer.  Riah was laying on the floor beside her; Dre was pacing around the livingroom.  Dre was our new dog — our second dog.  He was a Siberian Husky and Alaskan Malamute mix: black and white, super skinny, with a fluffy tail and sky blue eyes.

“Can’t they come visit us over here sometimes?” Dad continued, dropping some ice cubes into a glass and shaking it so they settled.  He made the same drink every day after work: 3/4s orange juice, 1/4 lemonade, lots of ice.  It was a juicy cocktail sort of thing – no alcohol in it.  Dad had been clean ever since Bobby’s cancer; he made a vow to quit smoking, drinking, gambling and other things if God would save his son.  Bobby beat the cancer; dad gave up the substances.

“You know my mom can’t drive,” my mom replied irritably.  “Besides, I don’t just go over there for me; I go over there for Grammy’s sake, for Rose’s sake, and especially for Bobby’s sake.”

Bobby was over at Grammy’s right now, spending the night.  Mom and Grammy took turns with him, since he took a lot of attention, a lot of patience, and loved Grammy and Grampy like his second set of parents.  They returned the affection.

“Whatever,” my dad waved his hand in the air and disappeared into his bedroom, the wooden door slamming behind him.  My mom sighed.

I had been sitting on the couch, listening to them and reading a book about an alligator keychain that was submersed into water and became a real, living alligator.

“Hey mom?” I ventured.

“Yes sweetie?”

“Can I spend the night at Grammy’s too?”

My mom turned away from the computer to look at me.  “Well sure,” she said quickly, “on the weekends.” She rose from her chair and walked over to the couch, taking a seat next to me.  “During the week you need to be here at the house so you can go to school everyday, but I’m sure Grammy would love to have you on the weekends.”  I smiled and she smiled back, but she looked kind of sad.

“Besides,” she added lightly, “I can’t have both of my babies away from me at once!”

She smiled at me and leaned forward to grab the remote.

“Is Rugrats on?” She asked brightly.

“Probably not,” I said, squinting my eyes.  “It’s too late; Rugrats comes on during the day.”

“Well do you want to see what kind of movies are on?”

I nodded enthusiastically and we spent the evening on the couch together, watching a rerun of some kids movie, such as Dr. Dolittle, Beethoven, or Beauty and the Beast.

“I like being at home with you and dad, mom,” I whispered quietly during a commercial break.  I couldn’t understand why, but I had spent the last few minutes feeling guilty for asking to spend the night away from home.

“Oh, I know you do, sweetie!” My mom reassured me.

She put her arm around me and I could feel that things were better now.


Aun Aqui

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Personal stories, lengthy rants, and lighthearted explosions of optimism, all neatly bundled into one blog.

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