I regret not talking to him to this day, and it will haunt me forever, just like I regret not ever visiting my friend who was convalescing out in Edina for months and who died after having surgery. In the aftermath of knowing he had passed, I wondered about the conversation we had. She's a little daft, and I didn't quite understand why she told me not to speak with him. In fact, I had wondered if she had been hiding the full extent of the deterioration of his health. If, for example, he had been in the hospital for a couple weeks and didn't tell me or the rest of the family, I would be very, very upset. I had asked that if things went south with my father to let me know ASAP. And a part of me, to be honest, didn't think she did.
But then I scrolled through my Google Voice messages Wednesday night and saw that my aunt did in fact leave a VM for me. There were two reasons I didn't get it till now: 1) she called me overnight Saturday/Sunday, which was when I got back from the Big Ten Women's Basketball Tournament around 9, crawled into bed around 9:30, woke up around 5 or so, then immediately drove back to work at Target Center; and 2) how I set up Google Voice means I don't get voicemail through the phone. Any messages left for me I need to go through my Mail app to get, and that's if I remember to hear them, and seeing as how I come across half a dozen messages from time to time, I don't remember a whole lot.
Anyway, she said that she needed to get ahold of Father ASAP because my uncle ... well, you know. Eventually Father heard about his little brother -- not by me, of course -- so she was able to reach him like she wanted to. But beyond not seeing him before he died, I really, really hate myself for not answering my aunt's VM when I should have. And now that what's done is done, I didn't think reaching out to her now is the best idea.
Eventually, however, I had to -- not only to let my aunt know I did get her voicemail, and not only because contacting her is the right thing to do, but because my sister asked me to. The shoe is now on the other foot; instead of me being mad at her, she now had every right to be mad at me. I really didn't want to get yelled at, but it isn't grown-up of me to complete avoid her upon one of the worst moments in her life.
I really should visit her at their house. I think a call would be in order. But I had to buy pizza and get home last/Thursday night in time for dinner with Father. I need to take some time talking with my aunt, and I couldn't do it if I was racing home. But, I split the difference and texted her while I was at Target Center in the afternoon. I didn't hear from her. I thought it was either she was still in mourning and/or she was still pissed at me. However, after I got home, I got a text from her saying she was fine. And I noticed that she was liberally using the exclamation point. Maybe it's nothing, but from the tone of her messages back to me, she didn't quite sound like she was depressed over losing her husband of over 40 years on Sunday.
I said I wanted to talk to her. She gave a time of tomorrow at 2. That doesn't work, for I am back at Target Center for the Big Ten Men's Basketball Tournament this weekend, and then I work in The Fourth Department all next week, and then Mother comes home Thursday night and I have to pick her up, and then there's that huge alumni thing Saturday afternoon ... and yet I said I will try for next week. And that seems to be a "promise" I will have to push back to the following week.
You know, the more I write up how I'm dealing with my uncle's death, the more disappointed in myself I become.
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