The Green-Eyed Monster Rears His Ugly Head Again

Some time ago I wrote these two posts (here and here) about a friend of mine.  If you've read my blog on a consistent basis you'll know that this friend (Jake, I call him) served time in prison and blew his chance when he was in a work-release program (which I talk about here and here).  Jake has been a constant source of frustration for both Jonah and me.  He can often be so self-centered and selfish and often uses people to his own advantage.  We both helped Jake when he got out of prison.  We helped arrange his bail.  I put up my own money to cover his bail when his parents' check was made out to the wrong court.  We housed him when he was paroled.  We attended his hearings.  Another of his friends gave him a job.  And we just feel that Jake kind of put his own interests above those that helped him once he got what he needed from them, including us.

Jake and I were in the same graduate program and his arrogance and ingratitude really turned me off.  Although I corresponded with him while he was in prison, I always felt guarded with him; always afraid his pride would get the best of him, which it sometimes did.  Jonah, who is such a giving person, wanted to help Jake, but like me, Jonah eventually discovered that Jake can be an unappreciative user.  We're both kind of over him.  We remain cordial, but distant.

I was reading Jake's Facebook post and saw that he had been cast at the Utah Shakespeare Festival this summer.  I'm not proud of it, but my first feelings were annoyance and jealousy.  I have auditioned for the Utah Shakespeare Festival probably ten times now.  I've always wanted to work there, but it is very competitive.  While a couple of my auditions were not as up to snuff as I would have liked, most have gone well.  The casting directors have always been very complimentary, and each year I am hopeful that it will finally be my year to work there.  So I admit when I read that my friend had been cast, I admit my feelings were not very congratulatory.  I always feel like Jake just sort of floats into good luck without ever really having to work for it, and I often find it frustrating, and it especially stings when I have so wanted something and tried for years to get it, and he gets it so easily so quickly, it seems.

So many of his Facebook friends were so congratulatory and complimentary, and I just wasn't in the mood.  I know it's petty of me, but it's what I was feeling at the time.  I had to remind myself that I have a job I like, and maybe that's where I'm supposed to be right now.  I'm also teaching, and there is something gratifying about that, and maybe I'm meant to be with these kids right now.  I also reminded myself that I am an Equity actor and Jake is not, and there are less Equity spots (which are also more competitive) than non-Equity spots.

Still, at the time I actually felt like crying.  I'm not one to normally cry, "woe is me" or feel sorry for myself, but for a bit yesterday that's exactly how I felt.  I admit it.  Now I'm moving on.  Maybe soon enough I'll feel happy for Jake, but I'm not quite there yet.  Fortunately, I usually get past stuff like this pretty quickly.

Jealous...But Only Slightly

Mom is doing very well...considering.  She seems very happy in the place where she lives and has pretty much completely forgotten she ever had a home.  In fact, when she does refer to "home," it's her childhood home in San Francisco, not the house she lived in in Utah for 52 years.

I miss Mom, both physically and the lady she once was.  I miss the in-depth talks we once had.  I call her every day.  I've only missed one day since she moved into her assisted living facility in January.  Most days it's almost the exact same conversation.  I don't mind so much.  I want to stay connected to her, and I also recognize that one day she may forget me, so I want to hold on to her knowing who I am for as long as I can.  I also just want her to know that I care.  Her short term memory is so bad I'm sure she doesn't remember much of our conversations or even that I call after the fact, although she does recognize that I call her every day.

She's still at a stage where she can learn and retain new information.  For example, she remembers that Jonah's dad died or what my job is.  Statistically she probably has another year or two in this stage.  Eventually, however, she will not be able to retain new information and there will likely come a day when my phone calls will have less or no meaning to her at all and even a day where she will not be able to verbally communicate at all.  I do not look forward to that.

She enjoys my phone calls, and I enjoy talking to her.  Every once in a while she tells me something new, and often things she says makes me laugh.  Today she told me she didn't like a particular resident because she was "weird" and "was always butting into people's conversations."  She also told me she had been on a roller coaster recently.  She was so detailed about it, I almost believed her.  But I'm sure it didn't really happen.

I've mentioned that Mom has a male friend named Harold.  They hang out a lot.  I've talked about how Mom feels about him here.  I'm really glad she has a close friend that she likes and can do stuff with.  But I also admit to feeling jealous at times.  Sometimes I will call Mom and she will barely speak to me because she has to "get back to Harold."  I'm only mildly jealous.  Truthfully.  I guess it's like a parent might feel when his or her child gets married.  The child moves out of the house and starts a new phase of their life.  It doesn't mean he or she loves the parent any less, but their attention is focused elsewhere, and the parent needs to let them move on and progress.

I guess as someone who was Mom's primary caretaker for so long and who was considered the "Golden Child," it's just weird to her fixate on someone else.  But it's good.  It really is a good thing, and I'm glad she has found happiness and purpose in her relationship with Harold.  In spite of the stress and worry it often caused, I guess I just miss being a bigger part of Mom's life.  But that's the cycle of life we are in.  I'm just glad she is happy.  She really seems to be, and I am grateful for that.