Lame Excuses

My Aunt Barb and Grandma were just here for a week with us. Three of the days were spent at the beach, one packing before, two recovering after, then they left this morning. I always seem to dread them coming for a visit, as much as I love them, it takes a lot of energy.
My Grandma, well, she is old and repeats the same stories a thousand times, and complains about things like how poor her service is at restaurants, and how she gets jipped, and then talks about a whole slew of negative things like murders she hears about on TV or the newspaper. She drives me and Doug up the wall with "health" advice and "how to raise children" advice. Let's face it though, she ain't changing now.
My Aunt, well, she is pretty happy-go-lucky, and initiates fun, likes to just let us be, which is great. However, she is a chain smoker, and a diet coke-a-holic, and has an incessant sweet tooth for all sorts of junky things even though she is a diabetic. She ain't changing that either though. It just makes me sad to see her deteriorate, and wears on my Grandma who has already lost 2 of her 3 children to early poor-health deaths. They argue about it constantly.
For all their misgivings though, I love them dearly. They were always there for me through all the drama in my early life. My Mother, Sister, and I actually lived with both of them for a length of time. They were my safe-haven in high school when my Mother would become hysterical, or Al (her husband) would be a jerk (I think that is why he hated them, mentally abusive people try to isolate you from all safety zones). I remember "running away" to my Grandma's house at the age of 16, saying to my Mother, "You can stay here and take this shit, but I'm not putting up with it!" (It didn't last long though, only about a day, and my Mother was begging me like a poor lost child to come back home). Needless to say, we have been through the ringer together.
I found myself though, once again, making up lame excuses as to why we couldn't come visit them at Christmas (even though we would only be 3 hours away instead of 12), but were going to see Doug's family. We haven't been back to our "native lands" in 2 years now. Mostly because of money, but also because of avoidance. I always seem to avoid my Grandma's house (where my Aunt also lives) for a few reasons, which I am not really sure if they are lame excuses or good ones.
First, my Grandma and Aunt eat horribly. We always have to bring all of our own food, and pots and pans to cook with because they only have teflon, and water, because they don't filter their polluted well water. So much work, when at Doug's parents, we don't have to do a thing.
Then, my Aunt smokes in her bedroom, but it goes wafting throughout the house.
They also keep the house at like 58 in the winter, on top of the old drafty windows, so I am always cold, and the kids whine too.
Then there is my Aunt's annoying dog, who was never potty trained, and pees on a puppy pad in the kitchen (which is carpeted).
Then, and this is a big one, the house is like a Memorial to my Mother. There is a huge picture of my Mother in her living room that is always staring at me, and I try my best to avoid looking at it, but can't and end up trying to hide my tears all the time. My Grandfather's room, where we sleep, is chock full of his things which also upsets me. I never get any sleep in there (not to mention that there is a huge outdoor light always on outside the window).
We do have a good time there, all those things aside, so you would think that I could cope with the hindrances, but haven't found myself doing it yet. I felt super guilty telling them yesterday that they could come visit us in Detroit if they wanted to see us. After they had just driven down here, a 12 hour journey, and my Grandma is 83 with a bad hip. They also then said, "Oh, don't worry about it, we understand." I asked them what they were doing at Christmas, if they were going to my cousin's house (my Aunt's only son, with 5 kids). They told me that they are usually alone on Christmas, because they go to his in-laws instead, where the kids get lots of presents, and they have a big brunch. The pangs of guilt hit me hard then.
Alone? That is not what it was like when I was a kid. I remember those big family Christmases, and so much fun. But, everyone has died or moved away now. My Grandma refuses to even put up any decorations. Just her cards that she gets, tallying up all the people that still care about her like jewels in a safe.
What have I said? How can family make you feel so darn guilty without even doing a thing? I guess we will just have to find a way to be there, even if it is only for a day.