I was having s pretty awesome day until I heard that my elderly renter is saying scathing things about me again.
Gary asks, “When are you going to tell her that she can’t treat you like that?”, which is a perfect question to ask, so justified. But my problem with teaching someone how to treat me is that I am implicating someone else for sharing (with me) the lies and innuendo from Rose.
Rose says that she happens to know that I am in town every single day. That is false, but it is my own business if I wanted to go into McBride three times every day. She tells mutual friends that I promise to visit and then don’t show up. Also a fib.
Rose has told me that she “rarely gets out of bed before noon”. Many times that I am fetching groceries or running out to the transfer station, it is morning, and I like being back home for lunch with Gary.
She tells people that, while Gary is home, I should be free to visit her. Who grooms the foo foo dogs, then? When I explain to Rose that I have been busy, she wags her finger at me and says that I forget that she ran a similar business herself also (also a stretch of the truth).
I feel frustrated and saddened. I like to get along with people, but I am riled when people lie and sell me short. I don’t feel like visiting with Rose at all … after taking coffee to her, buying lunch, delivering shepherd’s pies, reducing her rent, providing some dog services, replacing old appliances with “Cadillac” appliances, and the like. Sometimes, I have just picked up the phone to see if she’s fine and keeping warm.
My heart is not as kind and good as I’d have you believe. I WOULD have time to make a special trip to visit Rose or clip her dogs’ toenails; I just don’t want to. If I have to hear at length about her health concerns, however legitimate, or the deficiencies of the old home she rents from me, I am “this close” to suggesting that she put her name on the list for our local senior housing.
Rose still drives a good vehicle. She could get out to any of a number of social functions for seniors and others. Even if she didn’t drive, there are services available. Organizations in our town check on her and see that she has groceries and keeps her bills paid.
Thanks for letting me vent. I will have to cool off before I visit Rose again. Heaven keep me from becoming a Rose or a Madge or a Dorothy, who in golden years, plays games with people’s emotions, lays guilt trips during every visit, and makes shit up.