"Can't Have" Will Have

The Gus Report

We are now in the "tempt me with ham baby food" stage. Sometimes he wants, sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes, he gives me a distinctly "WTF, woman, let me sleep" look.

The vaporizer has helped his breathing.

So. Still here today. For now.

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"Can't Have" Will Have

I remember when I was about seven, I was astounded to overhear my grandparents say to a new acquaintance, "Oh, that Becs! We just about spoil her to death! Anything she wants, she gets."

I kept my tongue in my head. The truth was, materially, I had it better than most of my friends. If I wanted a Beatles album, I got it. If I wanted every single book from the Scholastic flyer, I got it. Usually when the shipment arrived, my teacher just packed my stuff back in the box and handed it to me.

But I don't recall ever asking for that much. Except for the pony. I was a real pain in the ass about the pony.

I remember in particular two things that I asked for and was denied. One: Going to the public library. My mother kept saying she didn't know where it was although she passed it on her way to work every day. Eventually, like, a year ago, I figured out that taking me to the library on a Saturday was just a pain in the ass to her and took away her time from watching TV and reading romance magazines. Hey, everyone has her own priorities.

Two: A coloring book. Not just a coloring book, but this one particular coloring book featuring "King Arthur and His Court: Knights of the Round Table!" It was 59 cents, 20 cents more than your average coloring book.

I had my heart set on this because the drawings were much better than your usual coloring book. I envisioned coloring the swords with a silver crayon and the ladies' velvet gowns in maroons and greens and navy blue.

I wept. I cajoled. I nagged. And we're not talking about when I first spotted it. This went on, I would guess, for a solid month. I cannot think of any reason - within my family's bounds of reasons - why I wasn't allowed this other than spite. This sort of thing happened a couple of times afterwards, so I'm fairly sure this is so.

Eventually, they relented and I groveled and thanked every one. And later refused to let anyone see what I'd done with the coloring book.

When my mother remarried, their financial situation was very tight. My stepfather had a stink-o credit history and I doubt that my mother ever had one of her own.

A couple of times, I would mention something I'd seen in a store and my stepfather's reply was, "You're old enough where your wants won't hurt you." I hated it when he said that because it was the end of any conversation. And it didn't make sense. I hated it so much that eventually, I stopped asking.

Another trick my mother would play on me would be at Christmas. She would ask me what I wanted. For example, one year, I said that I'd like a sewing machine. I was given a little TV set for my bedroom. It happened several more times until it devolved into, "Whatever."

This is pretty much how I've been living my life. Self-denial, followed by furtive sprees when I feel guilty the entire time.

Something happened a couple of weeks ago. I think it was chest pain one evening followed by dizziness the next day. Then more chest pain that night, all of which I chalked up to anxiety.

It did occur to me that this could be something a little more serious than stress. And when I thought of it, it was accompanied with:

Oh, shit. I can't believe I've spent my life denying myself things for no good reason. Why can't I have a lilac tree in the back yard? Even two lilac trees? Why can't I paint my bedroom blue or pink or whatever color I like? Why do I deny myself these things? (For answer, see above.)

I have no idea of the number of things I squashed down in my wants. Roses. Lilacs. A flowy dress, just in case I'm invited to a garden party.

Why can't I take a trip to Boston? Or DC?

I used to keep a greed list. That's what I called in and on it, I would list every single thing I fancied, no matter how great or small. (One thing that's been on there for 30+ years is an emerald cut diamond ring set in platinum from Tiffany. Surprisingly, that's heading off the list.)

I cannot understand why I've denied myself so very much.

I suppose part of it is because I thought I would one day be able to afford it free and clear. I have sense realized that that is not going to happen. Besides, I'm tired of being so mean to myself. When I'm on the bed, surrounded by the cats, feeling The Big One punch through my heart, besides "ouch", I will think, why did I deny myself the pleasures of life? And then I will get mad at myself and die.

Today I went to a garden center and I bought six-packs of impatiens, petunias, geraniums. I found a bag of Dutch irises in the sale bin. I bought two tomato plants (hope springs eternal). I thought, I'm sick of denying myself a garden with things in it that I want.

That doesn't play any more.

And yes, screw you my faithless former stepfather, I am now of an age where my wants can hurt me. But I won't let them.

So today, I'll play in the dirt a little bit.

And sometime soon, must have a serious conversations with Stash The Destroyer, who weed-whacked an entire bed of non-blooming irises. Among other things.