ML's sister's family will be providing transportation for me to and from the noon church dinner, since some of them will be out delivering meals to shut-ins anyway. No way I could survive the late afternoon dinner at the nice sister's house, since ML will be there after she finishes at the church.
As for rides to and from Mass, that's been a moot point for over 3 years now. I know other parishioners understand why; more than once I heard people slide into a pew behind me, almost swearing under their breath after some exchange with ML at the door. One muttered, "It's like running a damned gauntlet!" Most people around here grew up with her so they could tell me more than I already know, which is quite enough.
I appreciate your thoughts. Keeping them in mind will surely help me follow the right path. Yes, the poor woman has suffered uncommonly, and financial power (and its fellow traveler, social power) has not really been her friend. She knows people call her the Head Hen behind her back. Well, a few have called me a lot worse, such as heretic because I love the Jesuits and Dorothy Day and remain stubbornly liberal instead of slipping into decorus conservatism in my old age.
But I never had the treacherous 'benefit' of inherited wealth either. So I had to learn to fight my own battles, and that's been my share of the problem, whatever part of it I own. The percentage mystifies me, though I can't be pure as the driven snow either. I'm way too good at fighting when pushed into a tight corner, as I have unerring perception of an opponent's Achilles' heel. Can't remember ever having actually struck full force, but just knowing I could terrifies me that I might. I've been known to forget my parents' good advice: Only a jackass answers every donkey that brays.
Another matter has factored into the equation as well. Some people don't realize the tactical advantage of having nothing (or less than others) to lose, and some may be acutely aware. I honestly believe ML falls into the latter category. That would go a long way toward explaining why, when I exited the church after my first Mass there, she came up behind me and snarled, "Well, you sure made a big hit with the priest!"
Half dead as I was from the perils of my recent move from out of state, I'd done no more than stand to face the congregation and incline my head to everyone when the priest called the congregation to welcome me. No one had so much as spoken directly to me and I honestly don't know if I could've formed a coherent verbal reply at that point. So I just stopped for a second on the steps as I left; therefore she knew I heard her. But I didn't care to reply, and I just went on home. She must've realized immediately that I was not under her direct control, and that would've been alarming indeed to someone who's used to ruling the roost. Further events bore this out, no matter how hard I tried to please her conscientiously. At least at first. When it proved impossible, I stopped caring.
Sorry if I've dragged this subject out too long. I don't mean to wallow or whine or whatever else. But it's always helped me to contemplate any situation as truthfully and analytically as possible so I can listen (at least once in a blue moon!) to the angels of my better nature. I know I have one somewhere, if only I could find where I left it!
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