Looking a bit more critically at Grandma G.

 Several years after my parents' divorce, and especially after she decided to start going by her middle name, my sis started taking a more critical look at dad's family tree and family history. And, especially as our No. 2 brother anointed himself as guardian of dad's family heritage, my sis started doing that more with mom's family tree, especially with Grandma G.

Now, I'm distanced enough from both sides of the family tree that I don't need to do any heritage guardianship, and can also look skeptically at things.

The biggie to me always starts with: Why did mom take so long to get married? No. 2 is: Why did she marry someone younger than herself?

She was 26 when she and dad got married in 1955, in the latter half of the baby boom era. And, while not totally "old maid," yes, that was several years later than average.

The age difference? Dad was 16 months younger than her. Again, not normal for back then.

Plus, mom was a TWA stewardess back then. Back when that was a big deal, and women had to meet weight requirements, and then, still got dumped by the airlines in their early 30s. Just on the looks angle, why hadn't somebody picked her up?

There's the added factor that dad got cold feet and looked at backing out, after officially proposing. Mom's parents said: Oh, no you don't. Given that dad was eyeing going back to seminary, beyond broken engagements in the middle-class world being a big deal in general, it would have been a ginormous deal with the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod.

But, why, if he didn't really want mom, did they insist? With TWA looks and all, was mom psychologically not marriage material?

Before the time I was 12, maybe already at 10, just possibly a bit younger, I knew I didn't want to have kids when I grew up because I thought mom was mentally ill. As an adult, I pegged it as schizotypal disorder as a best guesstimate.

Since most mental health issues, especially personality disorders, are as much or more nature than nurture, what was mom's childhood background in the G home?

I also find it interesting that Grandma and Grandpa G never had a second child. Yes, it was the Depression, but? Grandpa was a St. Louis cop, and may have already made detective by this time. He never lost his job. Grandma's family had a small amount of money already at that time, I think. Not rich, but "comfortable" to some degree, unless they lost all of it.

So, was Grandma unable to have a second child? Or just did not want to, and was vehement about that, and stood up to Grandpa G more than mom did to dad? If it was psychological, was there some sort of competition for Grandpa's attention as mom grew up?

Life at 60

 Humaste to me. If I'll practice that.

Another decent vacation to sis and the family. Still don't know what she'll do when Andrew semi-retires, let alone what he'll do if she does the semi-independent life she says she'll do.

As for me? Recovering from the flu after getting back here to Tex-ass, with the massively stuffed sinuses, and perhaps a deviated (deviant?) septum, or too-large adenoids that I didn't outgrow, contra Dr. Diddams, and that provoking a small touch of asthma, and an even bigger touch of fear of breathing problems.

And, with that psychology, and the vacation being "OK," as in "use it or lose it" at a semi-trapped job, and as at times I do feel a bit lonely, not just alone, and as in, wishes here and there aside, I'm sure I'll remain lifelong single .... 

I feel mini-depressed. Dreams and hypnagogic thoughts while lying in bed lead me to reflect on life, and think of life's sometime shallowness, and perhaps my degree of sometime shallowness, to the degree that Dr. Miles whatever was correct — though to the degree he was correct on the "that," he knew nothing about the "why."

And, in part because of being frugal with the heater, I really, really feel chilled to the bone even as I am at least semi-recovered from the flu.

I have for what, 20 years, referenced Eliot's Prufrock that "I have measured out my life with coffee spoons." That's even as a NASA civilian astronaut candidate says I have lived an interesting life. Shy, neurotic? Constrained? Check, check and check.

Some things may be interesting, but, anything employment-related or relationship-related has been measured with coffee spoons indeed.