Groundhog Day: No Sign of Her Shadow...

It was a beautiful Easter celebration that I carefully planned this year; this is my passion, my gift I can give to those I love. I have one of those unique family-dynamic situations. On any given calendar holiday, I know that this certain series of events will take place, only varying in volume and deliverable content. My only younger sibling has no boundaries, and a definite inability to gauge her alcohol consumption. A good redux starts with her not driving to the party location by herself. A better repeat is if for some reason she needs to leave early, so saves her descent into her “role” for when she gets home, and then phase two starts with repeatedly less coherent phone calls and later and later left phone messages once you've given up trying to comprehend what she's slurring with an accent that sounds like a cross between Sir John Gielgud and Monty Python and you're no longer picking up the phone.

For what ever reason, I am the only one in this family that confronts her and everyone else with this fact. Everyone just looks at me like they wish I would shut up, after all, she's so sweet, and she means so well, and why do you have to be so belligerent anyway, she's not hurting anyone. I beg to differ. I see that she is hurting everyone. I find it embarrassing. I find it an affront that this not incapable 42 year old when told, “Excuse me, I feel the need to tell you that I know if you continue to pour yourself water goblets of white wine, that you are going to be sloshed, and no one will be able to do anything but be victim to your situation that is arriving quite quickly. Once again.” Shock and surprise. And then, let's hope you get home OK, and we'll pretend that it didn't happen. And here's a beaute...how sad is this? She shows up with an enabler friend, who drives her home, and makes excuses for. Well, that's relief. Sure would hate for anyone to point out that this is unacceptable behaviour, let alone unintelligent behavior for anyone who gives a fig for themselves. Why enable? Ease? Love? Fear? Change? All of the above? What happens to people who rock the boat? Are they hunted down, singled out and made to sing on American Idol with an unchic outfit and unbrushed teeth? Does therapy exist because people have lived whole lives denying truths, and now have to pay to have those truths dug up, forensic style and rolled out to dry up in the sun? Why not stop the root, the shoot?

Why not try standing up for what you see, why not say to someone, I love you, I care about you, I can't pretend that it doesn't make me emote when I see you once again making a fool of yourself.