Some of my favorite queries from readers are questions about my mom’s sisters and whether they’re in my life now, nearly nine years after my mom, Sue, passed away.
The short answer? No. I’ve had no contact with them since 2016 – just a few months after Sue died. The longer answer? Heartache precludes me from taking simple risks. Fear of rejection when relationships are entangled with drama and family madness. I know my aunts also suffered with Sue and I suspect their grief when she died was wrapped up in a healthy dose of relief. I can’t fault them for that.
Am I curious? Of course. I hope they’re well, but I can’t lie. I still harbor feelings of ill will toward them about their lack of interest in me (and more specifically my sister Lisa) given the load I carried then – and now as I navigated life with Sue. So I wish them well – from afar. Enjoying the fond memories I have of the gifts they bestowed upon me – many of them described in “Surviving Sue“.
I thought about one of those shiny bits last week when I rushed to tackle too many things in an over-scheduled week. I know my body; I can push forward and handle a few days of extra intensity, but I need to find a release valve when that happens. Schedule clumping can result in calamities of my own making. The most egregious among them? The Vicki Version of ‘hangry’. Hungry and angry when they arrive together prompt unseemly behavior. Definitely not me at my best. But I’d add a third descriptor – tired. Would that create a new adjective?
Hangered? Hungry, Angry, Tired?
Thankfully I’m old enough to know what to do (and yet that doesn’t mean I do it, know what I mean?). The best sure-fire antidote, other than a snack, will always be an unapologetic nap. Something my Aunt Louisa was a pro at, despite the frequent ridicule she withstood from her sister, Sue.
Aunt Louisa understood self-care before the phrase was tossed about. As a battle-weary warrior herself, she conquered eating disorders and found ways to regulate her emotions in healthy ways. Louisa knew that an afternoon (or hey – late morning or early evening) reprieve wasn’t an indulgence. It was precisely what she needed to be her best across each waking hour of her day.
Sue loved making fun of Louisa’s ‘nap times’, taunting her with rants any time Louisa sought a little shut eye. Mean-spirited and unkind, Sue let Louisa know naps were for “old people and babies”.
As a kid, I noted Sue’s hurtful commentary as another example of her epic negativity toward others – quick to point out weaknesses in order to make herself feel better, get a lift in the moment.
Sue’s mantra in life was always faster, harder, stronger. At anyone’s expense.
Always in competition with someone about something. Sue would sling hurtful jabs at Louisa and say, “I never nap, I can’t nap. There’s always too much to do.”
It’s taken me years and years, but today I understand the “why” behind Sue’s behavior. Now I have the perspective. She wasn’t truly ultra-motivated or productive – rushing toward a worthy goal. Sue was rushing away from fear and guilt and the creeping shadows that chased her throughout her life. Relentlessly. When an opportunity presented itself, one where she could bolster her ever eroding self-esteem at Aunt Louisa’s expense, she’d do it every time.
These days it’s challenging for me to hear Sue’s words echo in my sister’s Lisa’s voice. So many of Sue’s hurtful narratives and barbs are forever tucked into Lisa’s brain. Hardwired into her memory.
When Lisa visits with us and needs a siesta after a big meal, I don’t admonish her for napping – because, of course – like Sue, Lisa doesn’t nap. 😉 Her sweet snores and sleepy sounds often wake her up, prompting her to change positions in her comfy chair as she peeks to see if we caught her, mid-snooze.
Hubby Paul and I look away, pretending not to notice the Z’s that Lisa enjoyed. We just smile. With all that there is in the world to worry about, why should anyone be ‘nap shamed’? You need to check out for a few? I’m all for it, unless you’re behind the wheel or operating heavy machinery.
Every now and again, I think of Aunt Louisa as I watch Lisa check for “light leaks” (our Dad – Sonny’s – favorite euphemism for napping). Sweet memories that linger.
But back to last week…I knew I needed to power down for a few minutes when I could wrangle a window to do so, and I didn’t feel compelled to excuse myself or allow any creeping guilt to interfere. Rebooting is important, even for those of us who are purpose-driven most days.
I’m not alone. Our dear blogging friend, Erin is a wise one, hitting that note perfectly in a recent post about life lessons. Erin deftly summarized the importance of giving grace to oneself:
“Attaching your self-worth to your productivity is a recipe for disappointment.“
I see that in Sue. My mother who was unable to acknowledge the power of restorative time, even something as simple as a well-deserved nap.
Vicki ❤
P.S. Of course I have a soundtrack in my head, related to the title of this post. Do you love the B-52’s “Roam”? Do a little lyric swap in the chorus…inserting “Nap” instead of “Roam” and you will have successfully crawled into my brain:
“Roam if you want to, roam around the world“
Vicki’s edit:
“Nap if you want to, nap around the world“
P.P.S. Check out these related posts about loving and giving or this link for more “Peek Inside” content about “Surviving Sue”:
I’m grateful for the great reviews on Amazon and Goodreads…and the wonderful questions from thoughtful readers. I welcome more! If you’ve enjoyed the book and my story, please pass along your positivity to a fellow reader.
Victoria Ponders 
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