You can choose your friends but not your family.

Dad and I were visiting my Mom in the rehab facility today. She's been there for a little over 2 weeks following an episode of low potassium and dehydration that landed her in the emergency room and then the ICU. A softer repeat o f the Summer of 2020 episode just without all the Covid drama. 

I'm in NC helping Dad so we can prepare for Mom eventually coming home. I swear  it's my brother's turn next time. Dad had a car accident last week and totaled his van so I'm been playing chauffeur all week. Not that I mind really because frankly his driving scares me. But he's 84, what are you going to do. Anyway, I love being around him and helping out but he can be annoying at times just like all parents. I'm no picnic to live with myself so I mostly let it go.

So today we were visiting Mom at the rehab when my cell rings and it's a 217 area code which is the code in the part of Illinois where our farm is. My cell number is from 3 hours north in Iowa where my house is so if I get a call for the farm area code it's usually important. It turns out it was my cousin...my Dad's niece. 

I should say long lost niece/cousin because I've not heard from her in 22 years since I helped her and her sister clean out their parents house after the parents had passed. After that both sisters basically stopped talking to our part of the family which was very odd as we had a very friendly cordial relationship before then.

So the phone call today was basically to figure out if I'd be the go-between with the nieces and my parents to secure the return of their brother's military belongings from when he was killed in Vietnam in 1968. How did my parents come to possess these items one might ask? Because I found the box with the dog tags, Purple Heart medal, funeral flag and personal letters in the trash when we were cleaning out the house. When I asked the nieces about the items they told me they didn't care about them and didn't want to save them. So I took them and gave them to my folks who made a very nice presentation box and photo album for them.

Realize that when niece/cousin called, my parents were in the same room and I told her so and that she could and should talk to them about the return of the items. But of course it was easier to make me the go-between. Why I would want to help her when she basically disowned me 22 years ago, I fail to understand. Essentially she wants to donate his stuff to a museum in the County of Illinois where the family lived. My parents are not opposed to this but because of the bad blood they don't really want to give the items to the nieces who wanted to throw them away in the first place. Ball is in their court now. I told them I'd be happy to deliver the items directly to the museum when I return to Illinois in a week or so but that I did not want to be made the middle man in the whole mess.

The other reason for the bad blood was neither niece/cousin contacted my folks at all when their parents passed away. Luckily, Dad's sister heard about the mother's death on a local radio station and called my Dad. Same for the Father's passing. And then 22 years with no contact at all after repeated attempts by my folks to contact them. We also ran into Carolyn at a restaurant in her home town about 5 years ago and she pretended not to know who I was even though I had not changed since helping them to clean out their folks house a decade and some years before.

Anyway, it's out of my hands as far as I'm concerned. I don't have a dog in this fight as they say.

Peace,

Wander