Monday, January 11, 2010

'Up with which I shall not put'

That memorable phrase, often misattributed to Winston Churchill, reportedly was on the subject of prepositions. When I say it today, it's about propositions.

My 75-year-old mother-in-law is an alcoholic and a mean-spirited drunk, daily downing more than a dozen stiff drinks between noon and bedtime. Her husband, five years her senior, is a classic enabler. Both are up to their eyeballs in denial.

Together, they've given my family and me a roof while we rebuild our lives, a choice for which we're grateful. They also join in wave after cruel wave of emotional abuse, usually directed toward their adult daughter, my wife.

I knew that there would come a point at which two propositions -- rightfully expressing our gratitude while we silently absorb their harassment -- would collide. That happened last night, when my in-laws relentlessly (and unjustifiably) belittled an anguished Mrs. KintlaLake.

I no longer could excuse the inexcusable. I lost my practiced ability to tolerate the intolerable.

I called my mother-in-law "a [expletive deleted] old drunk."

Her husband rose up and popped me in the mouth -- twice.

Knowing that I'm considerably larger and stronger than this brittle, feeble man, I picked him up by the breast of his shirt and deposited him in an overstuffed chair, ignoring his repeated kicks to my groin.

Not long thereafter, a pair of "official" visitors entered the house, stayed for a couple of hours' quiet conversation, then left us to ourselves. Everyone went to bed.

There were a lot of bad decisions, mine among them, last night. Re-living those events, however, is far from my thoughts right now.

Mrs. KintlaLake is under a doctor's orders to stay in bed and rest -- she's an incredibly strong woman who's at risk of crumbling under the stress inflicted by her parents, and her well-being is my first priority. I'm also concerned for our spawns, so at the same time I'm mindful of their welfare.

As for our hosts, until my father-in-law demonstrates that he's actively engaged in moving heaven and earth to get his wife into counseling and treatment for her alcoholism -- which is, in point of fact, at the root of every single conflict in this house -- I have nothing to say about, for or to them.

That we simply should put up with her booze-fueled hatefulness and his complicity -- or that our only alternative is to flee -- are propositions which I categorically reject.