Now why would she say that?

I cherish my Cousin Rosemary. I treasure how much she loves me, and I realize that she is one of the last two people left who held me as a baby. I'll never forget how, when I was an embattled adolescent, she was my champion within the family.

She also makes me crazy. About a decade older than I am, she has always viewed me as the junior partner in this relationship. It was OK when I was a teenager and she was in her mid-twenties, and her single-girl adult life in Stevensville, MI, seemed so full of possibilities. But now I'm in my mid-60s. I've built my own career, swum in a bigger pond. It doesn't help that her age and divorce have left her intolerance and her tongue sharper.

So it's with tremendous ambivalence that I accepted her invitation to visit her in Tampa next month. She offered to play hostess to me as we attend a Yankees spring training game so I can see my favorite most ballplayer, ANTHONY RIZZO (!) in person for the first time since the Cubs broke my heart by trading him. This gesture touched me because it's something solely for me. She couldn't care less about baseball. Plus, I have an airline credit from my cancelled trip to Key West, so it won't cost me anything to fly down there.

But did I mention she makes me crazy? Like just about nearly every American with a pulse, I have been moved by Damar Hamlin's cardiac arrest. While he was in a coma, I posted one of his tweets to Facebook feed.

Rose's comment? "Sad story. Terrible grammer." Now why would she say that? Also, she meant grammar, not grammer.

She wondered if I could stay with her another day (as it is I'm flying down Sunday and returning Wednesday). Now that I'm not working, I certainly could stay another day, but I know I'd kill her. I explained that both my cat Connie and I have dental work scheduled. This is true, though not accurate. Her response? "Imagine the money you'd save if you didn't have cats."

Now why would she say that? She knows how much I love my fur babies. In fact, she once gave me a pillow that says, "I saved my cats and my cats saved me." 

Again, I love Rose. I know Rose loves me. I love baseball. I LOVE ANTHONY RIZZO!

But part of me is dreading this trip.

I'll have to work at keeping my mind right those three days, to value our time together and her good intentions, and not let it get under my skin when she criticizes my wardrobe (she thinks my purses are too big), or how I spend my money, or my casual use of the word "fuck," or my diet, or ... or ... or ...

Pray for me!