We made a visit today that I had been dreading--to my aunt in the nursing home. Sue insisted we pay that call, much against my (or anyone else's) better judgement. Aunt Betty was weaker than I had ever seen her--an extremely OLD seventy-five--and meaner than ever. I have a feeling that her last breath will be expelled as a put-down. She USED to be nice--when she had my grandmother to snarl at, that provided her a focus. After Grandma died, Betty started unloading her animosity on anyone within earshot. On sundry occasions, she always took time out of her schedule to criticize my piano-playing, my songwriting, my weight (even 100 pounds ago) or whatever other sensitive spot she could poke at to make us more equally miserable. Today was no exception. Of course it was my obesity--my mere presence had handed her that weapon. Why should I be happy in momentary ignorace of my flaws when it was my duty as a member of this family to be aware of them at all times? The whole purpose of a family is to undermine joy. If one can find transport in, say, music or art or literature, then one needs to be slapped down to earth immediately by a Concerned Relative. Why find absurd delight in a symphony when you can just as easily leave the television on, half-attended to, and be numb? Don't get above yourself, young man--don't forget for a moment that you're from Utica and you're just as hopeless as we are. Doomed! Sit up straight and be bitter like the rest of us!

I know. You're thinking, "Cut the old broad some slack." Perhaps I should--but if YOU met her, YOU'D hate her, too. And, it's not just her--it's everyone else in my family. (If you don't have anything nice to say, you must be related to me.) Perhaps it is no surprise that I decided my line would stop with me. I know the seeds of dysfunction I carry. I have seen those seeds ripen into my RELATIVES. I will continue to squander them in my (blessedly) childless, deliriously happy marriage.