I am amazed - there are no grey hairs visible. This might be worth refinishing a table...

I am curious about how short your hair really is. cause you have always had short hair as I see you.

IOmemeN, my hairs be short. Very short. Very, very short. It tickles

Pictures?

My family tells me everything, all the time, and usually more than once.

When my dad's brother died, my mother called Joe, told him but then told him NOT TO TELL ME - she would call me when I got home from work. Which, he did.

He won't ever again.

IOmemeN, my hairs be short. Very short. Very, very short. It tickles.

There need to be lots of pictures, I think.

My family is good with the information, especially with the medical. I suspect it has something to do with my mother's nursing degree -- we got the facts from her and learned to give 'em.

My husband's family? They were a source of stress. I'd ask how (the sick person) was, and I'd hear "terrible." I'd ask, what was going on, and I'd hear "S/he had a bad day." Eventually, I learned to stop asking what made the day bad, because there were never any details. It was impossible to tell if things with whoever was sick at the time were getting better or worse.

In defense of people who don't notify others, my excuse is that I get tired of copeing with things and don't even want to deal with people I like until it's settled. Plus I figure something like battle fatigue sets in with my loved ones--if I'm tired of it, the people who aren't directly affected must be even more tired of it.

Why you would tell some people and not others, though, is a mystery, unless someone is a screaming drama queen--so can't picture the Empress as a screaming drama queen.

The lone survivors.

so can't picture the Empress as a screaming drama queen.

Have we met?

I get when there are chronic problems you might not want to tell people everything all the time, but my grandfather, well, he's not been well. He wasn't supposed to be hospitalized. Plus, she PROMISED to call and tell us what was going on. That's what drives me crazy most of all.

My family never tells me anything -- I have to get all the news through my sister. (Except for the times we're both out of the loop, as happened a few weeks ago when my mother ended a conversation with "Anyway, I have to go, I'm on my way to [my great uncle]'s funeral." She hadn't bothered to tell either of us that he'd died.)

My father had a double bypass without telling his children that he even had heart problems.