Elderly Lovin'

I knew I was gonna write multiple posts today. This is what happens when they hold meetings all week in the vacant building at my bank job, where I would usually go to write on this blog. Anyway, my mom Rita calls me on Wednesday afternoon and tells me that my grandmother Grammy passed away on Monday morning at 5:00am in Nigeria. Because she was Muslim, they buried her the same day and that was that. Hmm.

Grammy’s death didn’t really bother me. She was incredibly old and blind, and she lived her life. In fact, the only regret I have is that I won’t be able to have a conversation with her in Yoruba like I had planned. Death in general never bothers me because I wake up every morning ready to “go”. No, what bothered me was my mom’s mini-speech. Rita said she was sad that Grammy had passed away, but was happy that she took care of her while she was alive. She then said that it should teach me a lesson that, when she gets old, I should take care of her so that I will feel the same joy. Great. Just great. You know, I remember having to take a semester off just to take care of Grammy while my mom went to work. I didn’t like her at first, but then she grew on me. I got to watch firsthand how my mom would have to re-arrange her life just to take care of Grammy and the incredible amount of stress she was under. Rita would yell at her if Grammy would do something wrong and would have to bathe her and everything. Sometimes I would have to bath her or mop the floor if Grammy couldn’t make it to the bathroom before she had to pee or take a dump. I’d have to clean her bed sheets, clean her dishes, do this and do that. And now my mom wants me to do the same for her when she gets old. Ugh!

Look, I know it’s familial duty and something that I can’t avoid. But come on, man! I’m the youngest! I thought the youngest child was supposed to be the one that gets to make all the mistakes and do a lot of stupid shit that embarrasses the family. I’m supposed to marry and divorce whores and have rotten kids, kids that I force my mom and dad to take care of. Is there no place for wanton irresponsibility? My sister Rana is still living at home with my dad and she looks a mess, so she won’t be able to do it. My brother Rex is still trying to get is forex trading off the ground, and when he does he’ll still have a wife and (presumably) kids to take care of, so he will most likely not be able to do it. Her fiancé Andello will probably die before she does. So that would put the responsibility on me, big dumb Roger Dodger. I work so hard just to retire, start my own business, do what I want, and then have to take care of my mom? Fine. If that’s the way life goes then so be it. But I’ll do it my way.

I don’t need a greater motivator to retire and make money than to have the financial means to take care of my mom when she gets old. I can tell she’s gonna be in horrible shape because I noticed her belly getting bigger when I went to Brooklyn last week. So I’ll have to pay a maid service to give her round-the-clock support, whether she lives here or in Nigeria. I’ll have to pay for the best, and visit her maybe two to three times a year. If she’s living in Nigeria, I would be able to pay for a round-the-clock bodyguard and the maid should be able to take Rita wherever she wants to go. I hope she ends up living in Nigeria because I could probably pay both salaries of the round-the-clock maid and bodyguard for the same price it would cost to pay for a 40-hour-per-week maid here in America. But in order to make all this happen, I have to succeed.

November may have sucked ass financially, but the events that took place this month from the Brooklyn trip to Grammy’s passing have given me more motivation than ever. If I wanna live the way I’ve always wanted to live, I’m gonna have to win at this real estate game. Being a man by definition means that one has to take care of his responsibilities, and if he can’t then he’s a bitch. I’ve been a bitch to these paycheck jobs for years now. When it ends and I finally retire, I’ll be able to live my life the way I want and still take care of my mom when the time comes. To never be a bitch again… that’s a sweet sweet feeling.