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Man, I wish Mum had got a prescription for Xanax years ago. I know it's a short-term solution, but I was prepared for a downright hurricane of angst and anger in prelude to seeing Bernard for lunch and taking him out to the cinema, which is what we're doing this afternoon. She's still talking nonstop about him and swearing a lot about this stupid girl, but she's not displacing her anger as she often does, and she's keeping a lid on the real rage she sometimes experiences.

I'll be gone most of the rest of the day, and won't get home until late tonight. Y'all play nicely. :D

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Permalink.

Every older sibling, and I imagine every responsible younger one, hates the story of the prodigal son. It's probably one of the most hated passages in the Bible, whether or not anyone admits it.

We're told that the troublesome younger son is welcomed back with joy because after a life of wasteful idleness he consciously chooses to return to his family. The allegory is, of course, that the penitent sinner is to be hailed and celebrated as one who wrestled with his own nature and chose God.

I call bullshit.

The older son must have taken some joy in his work to stay, but it's not like his life was a cake-walk. He had to listen to his parents worry about his brother and put up with the extra chores and be the one who "had it together" because it's not like his parents don't have enough to worry about, and it doesn't really matter to them if he misses his brother too becauuse they're too wrapped up in their own misery to be able to cope with another fucked-up kid.

And the prodigal brother gets everything. There's nothing they wouldn't do, no dignity they wouldn't sacrifice or insanity they wouldn't perpetrate to lure him back. They're too mad with fear and loss to listen to their son's advice, even if he had anything worth hearing. I'm sure he probably gave them some advice, had it sneered at, and heard them come up with the same idea "all on their own" a few days later. And they were so proud they'd thought of it, too.

Then one day the little punk comes prancing back now that he's out of money and his useless friends have abandoned him, and he gets a fucking party.

Seriously?

I mean, the brother loves the prodigal, at least presumably, and there's nothing wrong with having a nice meal to say welcome home, but welcome home could certainly be followed by "here's your scythe, let's get harvesting". And how long before kid brother stops being the pet once he finally does come back? Does this mean maybe the brother who worked his ass off can ask for that new plow he needs to get his acreage sown? Or was that money supposed to come out of the sale of the fatted calf?

I'm not some prisoner of my own good nature, I admit that. My parents love me and support me financially and, as this blog is proof, they spoil me a bit, materially, now that they can afford to. But I do wonder sometimes, when I'm having a panic attack in the bathroom or pondering slipping Mum a Xanax just to shut her up shut up please shut up what would happen if I just disappeared. Occasionally I think about getting on a train and not getting off, or going to some other destination and just not answering my phone anymore. If I ran away from my family and stayed away for a few months until I thought they might be reasonably sane again, would they welcome me back or would they just be pissed that I couldn't keep it together while they were freaking out about my brother? Would I get a fatted calf too?

I never do run, because it's not worth throwing away my shot at success in life just to see if mummy and daddy love me best. Grownups learn to have faith in themselves if they can't find it in their families, and they keep it together because others can't or won't. It's a bad blow, worse than losing the love or confidence of a friend, but if you can survive being the Prodigal's brother you can survive anything.

That pretty much sums up my day.

And Bernard's still planning to leave on the 22nd. He has a passport, a completed intent-to-marry visa, and half his belongings have already been shipped. I hope he chokes on his in-flight peanuts.