Feeling sorry for oneself is always a waste of time--a long time philosophy of mine. But with Thanksgiving and Christmas coming and I have no one to spend them with I am having a hard time. I have always spent Christmas with my oldest brother and his family. My parents always went to their house and my siblings went along, including me and when they eventually got married and I didn't, I just kept going. Keith now lives in Colorado which is too far to go and Don lives in Dublin and has never invited us there--well almost never. A couple of times we have gone there, I am not sure how it happened, one time we had cold cuts, and another time my brother's family came from Colorado and so we went to Don's.
But last year, I insulted my nephew's wife, and now I will not be invited for Thanksgiving or Christmas to my oldest brothers house. And of course my brother Don has never invited me there. Poor Peggy. My brother's wife in Colorado did invite me for Thanksgiving to Colorado but it's an expensive flight, and I don't ski, and they would go out to eat often and I just cannot afford it so I said no. I am pretty sure they were relieved. They ski and shop and live very differently than I do.
Tonight I was thinking about how much fun holidays used to be. My Aunt Frances and Uncle Frank were always so glad to have me and all of us around. But my parents and my aunts and uncles are all gone now. I only have siblings. I had a guy friend once but he was a jerk and after 8 years he was gone. Then I had a girlfriend for many years. But that friendship ended a couple of years ago. I have a few friends but no one, absolutely no one to spend holidays with.
I should be happy that I have had a good life. I have had wonderful Thanksgivings with my family, with big old golden brown turkeys, and potatoes and apple waldorf salad and pumpkin pie and dressing that my Mom fixed perfectly. And that didn't happen just one year, it happpened many years. And some years we went to Aunt Frances' or to Frank and Mary's. And then eventually we went to Dave and Norma's. And some years when I was a waitress I worked at the Plaza as a cashier or a waitress, where I had a part-time job.
I have had a good life. Some people have had nothing, or nothing as nice as I have had. And I am just feeling sorry for myself. But I don't want people to feel sorry for me. That's part of my problem. I don't want people to know I don't have anybody. But they will. My neighbors will. We can all see when others come and go. But I never have friends or visitors--how did I get to this point. My life is a mess...
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I was born on a cold snowy January day in 1946. My dad was still picking corn and had to be called in from the field to take my mom to the hospital. I was a big baby girl and named Peggy Ann, the Peggy after my paternal grandmother Lulu who's nickname was Peggy and the Ann was the popular name of the period to tack on to a first name. I never loved or hated the name Peggy but I did argue some when my brothers called me Peg, saying it was something to hang a hat on. I had an older brother who had already been around for 4 years and was not at all impressed with having a sister and made that clear from my earliest memories. Now that I think about it I am not sure whether it was that I was a girl or maybe it was just that I was a sibling disturbing his reign as the only son and nephew in the household since both my Aunt Frances and Uncle Frank lived with us.
I was cute it appears from my baby photos, although there were not many. Pleasingly chunky but not too much so with enough dark hair to look good. My status as the baby didn't last all that long because brother Donnie came along just 21 months later. My guess is that was traumatic to my little ego to suddenly have my babyhood usurped when I was so young when this cute little blond curly haired boy suddenly shows up and garners the attention that I still should be getting at least for another year or so.
