Both my parents have been more or less ignoring me since the birthday conversation, apart from - since I'm meant to be picking them up from the airport in their car, which broke down on the way to dropping them off and which I've had to arrange to be repaired.
Things had moved on a bit from there too. From speaking to one of my sisters, it turns out some of the stuff in Mum's book is factually inaccurate. Mum'd made out she'd arranged a taxi home for my sister and a letter to my brother's girlfriend to let her know my brother was dead, but it transpired my sister had had a much bigger hand in things than Mum recorded. I genuinely don't understand why she did that; the charitable explanation is that things have gotten muddled in her head.
From speaking to my other sister, there seems to be some doubt that Dad has actually been diagnosed with Huntingdon's or has to be tested for Huntington's.
I had no contact whatsoever from my mother about the book, apart from her thirty second stroppy birthday message. But I have had two or three messages asking about the car, and when I ignored them - largely because I was still upset - today I got another one about the car.
There was a vague plan that my brother in law, who is more diplomatic and less personally involved, would give them a call. But being repeatedly asked for car updates while they ignored the book issue just made me snap.
So, shaking, and worried I'd just burst into tears, I called them up. After a big palaver (they have a different SIM card for that country, an any calling seems to need lots of fannying around with phones) I spoke to my Dad, said the car was fine but I was still angry about Mum's book. so got put on to Mum.
Och, long story, and I won't give you a blow by blow account, lest I sound like Vikki Pollard. But anyway, Mum initially came out with a lot of mad excuses; she had told me it was about my brother dying (no. Just no. She didn't), she didn't realise reading about it all again would upset me, she'd apologised to my sister (???).
She did say she is upset generally because I am nasty to her (I do get a bit snappy with her, for reasons outlined in previous posts, but not anything to justify this by a long shot).
I am also the bad one for stressing her out, which stresses my Dad out. Which kind of sounds like she should be given a licence to do whatever she wants just in case it somehow hastens my father to shuffle off the mortal coil.
She did apologise, eventually, after a lot of sticking to guns on my part. I was fucking sellotaped, welded on to the gun.
So, I think I got my point across and didn't let her wriggle out or obsfucate. In return, I will try and be a bit more patient.
It's alright, for the short term. But I think, long term, I'm going to be a lot more discerning about what I accept from her as fact.
Urrgh. I hate this sort of stuff; no matter how truthfully you think you've acted in an argument, just the fact that you've had a fight and blogged about it makes you seem like a candidate for daytime television chatshows.