Welcome?

Aunt Irene acted very strangely toward me from the beginning. I arrived at her house on Thursday, and the next night we settled down at the nice Sabbath dinner table. After she sat down, I took the chair at the opposite end of the table. The next day I had to help turn over the rugs in honor of the Sabbath. When I turned the rugs in the opposite direction, she hollered at me, even though I had not done this on purpose. "Last night you seated yourself at the head of the table, and now I had to turn the rug your way," yelled Irene. "This is not going to work. Turn the rug the same direction that I do!" I did so, but the feeling of insult accompanied me the rest of my stay with her - nothing would change that.

Irene let me sleep on the big beg the first few days following my arrival. Then she instructed me to sleep on the couch as she returned to the big bed in the room. A bad sleeper from childhood, I turned constantly from side to side. Each move I made on the old couch yielded a noisy crack. The noise thoroughly aggravated her, and she accused me of making noise on purpose to make her nervous. She demanded I lie in bed like a piece of wood without the slightest move. It was very difficult for me to fall asleep, but I tried not to move for hours. I often failed, with the couch creaking at the slightest move. Irene did not accept my explanation that I was not doing this to make her angry.

She often unfairly reprimanded me for doing things she did not like. I simply did not know what she expected me to do or not to do. One day she told me that she had been saving her jewelry for me, but that she would never give it to me because I was not nice enough to her. I cared little for her jewelry, but her unjust verdict really hurt me. With my childish innocence I so wanted to see her glad, but could not achieve this goal. She was a hard nut to crack, a kindly soul but unable to sense a child's kindness towards her. She had to vent years of pent-up anger out on someone, and I was the victim of her whims. Later in life I came to realize that some people derive enjoyment from seeing other hurt.

© David Muskal, 2001