It was Hubby's birthday recently and although I was still getting over being sick, and Hubby was also still getting over his own sickness we made the best of it and I hope that Hubby had as good a birthday as he could this year. Although I didn't get to bake Hubby a cake I did manage to get to buy him a delicious chocolate one!
You know if you are a regular reader of this blog that I have written before about Man. Man is Hubby's father. Which you probably figured out from what I wrote before, but which I haven't explicitly said before.
You would think - or perhaps not, you will let me know no doubt - that if it was your son's birthday you might pay some attention to this. Send him a card, wish him happy birthday, ask how his birthday was. That is what I would do anyway.
However, Hubby heard nothing from Man on his birthday and although he had received some cash handed over about a month ago for his birthday nothing else was forthcoming. Now, Hubby of course appreciated the gift of the cash and was grateful for it. However, that wasn't what he wanted. All he actually wants is to hear Happy Birthday from Man and for Man to show just a little interest in him and his life.
A card did eventually turn up a few days later, it had been sent to the wrong address and had obviously visited a few addresses and been redirected by the various notes written on the front and eventually made it to our house. It was actually quite impressive work on the part of Royal Mail who are not generally known for such happenings.
No phone call though.
This morning we did get a call from one of Man's neighbours to tell us that he had had a fall and was badly injured. We immediately dropped everything and drove to see him. We were greeted by a rather bashed up man who didn't look to be in a good state. However, he thought our presence totally unnecessary refused to get any medical assistance, refused to be checked over by a doctor, refused to even wash off the blood from his face and refused any assistance to get some new glasses ordered. Refused anything in fact and kept insisting that he was fine.
Now I totally get the not wanting to ask for help thing, the being independent thing all of that kind of "stuff". I am the same, I never ask for help, I hate needing help, but if it appears on my doorstep I am at least kind and gracious enough to say thank you for coming and offering, even if I don't need the help.
Man. No. He doesn't think the same way. Instead he goes on to tell us how he doesn't need to go out because he has sent money to various other people for their birthdays. At which point I interjected that that didn't matter because those birthdays are not for ages, and what about asking his own son, sat there in front of him how his birthday was, what he did, did he have a nice time. Man just carried on shouting over me. Not my finest hour at all, I shouted over him that I wasn't really interested, but that I wanted him to show some interest in his son who was very hurt by the fact that his father completely and regularly ignores his son. Then I left the house and went out into the garden and didn't return.
Apparently Man just carried on talking and never did ask Hubby about his birthday or anything else. Even when Hubby mentioned something he had done on his birthday, Man just started talking about something else.
Now, if you know me, or have read any of the other things I have written about Man you will most likely be of the same mind as Hubby and I that Man is not well in terms of his mental health, or his physical health, but that is another matter. Man though, just many thousands of others, refuses to even consider that he is anything other than a perfect person who can do and does do everything perfectly well just by himself. This isn't helped by those who Man prefers to believe who have firmly stuck their own heads in the sand and believe that Man is just fine and tell him too that he is just fine.
When I was thanking the neighbours who came to Man's rescue - he didn't thank them himself! - I turned round to the gentleman and was greeted out of the corner of my eye by yet another pile of rubbish piled up in Man's house and wondered just what these kindly neighbours thought of the mess, of Man and of us. They must think that we are terrible people for not sorting him out and helping Man out more. Actually I don't suppose they did because they clearly are very nice people, but you know what I mean I am sure. Someone living in the state that he is living in, was as bashed up as he was today and refusing help, who doesn't even realise it has been their own sons birthday, is surely not well.
I don't know what the point of all of this is, but I needed to get it out before it eats me up inside. Sorry to burden you with it!
There isn't any answer, and I am not seeking one, just sharing and getting it out. As we drove on our rescue mission I secretly hoped that this might be the catalyst finally for getting something done, but it seemed that today was not the designated day for action so we will sit and wait and see what is still to come.
I will stop now because I am not adding anything. Thank you for listening!
p.s. I just realised, because you probably do care, Hubby did have a fairly good birthday, he got his present to himself all sorted which is something he has been saving up for for a couple of years and he is delighted with. He also liked the limited items which I was able to get him - having been stuck indoors being sick - and yesterday we went to the Practical Classics Car Show which I think I found more interesting than Hubby, but it was a day out nonetheless. I will try and make a special event next weekend when we are both better as we are both much improved now.