I started talking about my aunt yesterday and the tears came without any warning. I miss her. She had just come back into my life, and it was amazing getting to talk to her about things that matter. I was never afforded any family relationships. That was just never an option for me. When my father moved us from Boston to Texas, he took us away from everything and everyone. I believe that he knew what he was doing, that was the point. He didn't want us to have any connection. Well, it worked. I grew up having no one. There were no family get togethers, no family holidays or celebrations. We came to Texas all on our own, he wanted us isolated and dependent on him. It worked, and I was robbed of so much. No cousins, no aunts and uncles, no place to go for a break where we could just be. That sense of connection was something that I never got to experience. I guess that when you are little there is no way to understand that significance. As you grow older, and all around you people are sharing about their family, you realize just how different that your experiences are.
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My grandmother would often come to visit. She was a breath of fresh air. She would always sleep in bed with me, and I knew at least for a few nights, that I would be safe. I was always so dressed up. I remember her having little feet and I loved playing in all of her shoes. When I was little, I felt such great care by her. I can remember her crying each time she left to fly back home. I never understood that, maybe she knew more about what was going on in our house than she ever talked about. Just like my family you didn't talk about things, that was what happened in her home. My mother did the same ignore and deny maybe the problem will go away. I was always grateful for my grammy. I knew that she loved me. She always took me ice skating, with her I didn't have to worry about the craziness of life, I got to be a kid. I remember how we always had to visit the liquor store before we got to my house. I think it was scotch, and she would get the biggest bottle. There was something comforting in that smell, it was her and she was safe. She smoked, and that smell with coffee in the morning bring back the warmest memories. It was when I got older and refused to stay quiet, refused to just go with the flow that our relationship got strained. She wanted me to be the good girl, just be quiet and always smile. As I got older that didn't work for me anymore, and she could never understand that. When I was in my early 20's and pressed charges on my father, she never spoke a single word to me about it. She would glare, I would get the cold stares, she never ever said a word to me. I became something that she didn't know what to do with.
My father's parents came to our house once. They were scared to fly, so they never made the trip to visit us. Once they did come. We drove to Boston, then drove them here to Texas. I remember driving to pick them up, and I think that they took the greyhound bus back to Boston. There was not much connection. I again knew that my grandmother loved me. She made me feel special and went out of her way for me. They didn't have much, but still gave you the world. Every Christmas, Easter and Birthday they sent boxes of toys and gifts. I think that if we were around them more, we would have had a stronger bond. She was one that stood up to my father. I can remember her yelling at him telling him to be more kind to his children. She told him not to yell at us, that was something different. When I was older, I did fly to Boston and got to visit with her, but I don't remember anything about the interaction that stood out. I remember bringing her lots of gifts and being sad that the next time I went over there they were in a pile in the hall. I can remember feeling hurt, that was the last time I ever saw her.
There were a few interactions with my uncles. In my early 20's I went to visit Dennis. Everyone thought that I went to visit him because I wanted something. Really, I didn't want a thing just a connection with family. I think that things started off in a good place but that changed quickly. It is safe to say that both of my parents came from very dysfunctional families, and they didn't fall far from the tree. It was Dennis that asked me if my father had ever done anything to me, because, he had sexually abused him as a child. I was in shock, I said that no one knew. I think back and yet, I was the one that everyone warned him about like I had some kind of ulterior motive, when I had none. He was the one that opened that can of worms. He was the one, that asked the question and then couldn't handle the truth. So strange looking back. I wanted nothing but a relationship with my uncle, and he was unable to do that. The next time that I went to visit him in Boston, my other Uncle Danny came for a visit. It was very strange, they were running around getting things that he liked, you would have thought someone famous was coming over. I did a lot of observing, how they interacted and spoke to each other. Then the topic of my father's stepdaughter came up and the words that came out of their mouth, will forever sting. They were laughing, talking about the past and my father, and Angela was brought up and they laughed saying that was one more for him to poke. They laughed like it was the funniest thing that had ever come out of their mouth. I was shocked, and terrified. I was fighting to keep her safe, and they were making a joke of the worst kind. I cried, and ran upstairs, I was mocked saying that I was too sensitive. That was the last visit. It was in the weeks following, that when the DA called and spoke with him, he said that he would make my father look like a fucking saint on the stand. I was done. They wanted me to quietly ignore, the facts and continue moving on. That was not something I was willing to do.
Then finally in my 40's. With all of my mother's surgeries, Donna my mother's sister was going to come from Virginia and help take care of her. It was so exciting having her here. She listened to me, she heard my point of view, and she was such a support. She saw how hard that things were for me, she was a lifeline for me. We talked we laughed, we got to know each other and had so much fun. We kept in touch; it was more than amazing to have someone that I connected with that was a part of the family. She said that she always thought that we didn't like her. But it was simply the fact that there was no connection. It's very hard because I feel like we missed out on so much, and that is heartbreaking. It was nice to get to share my life and my kids with someone. She loved animals, and she was really funny. We told so many family stories and truly bonded. We would text and she would check in, she was always planning the next visit. She was going to come for the kid's graduation. We worked on the family tree while she was here, learning about so much. Then she had surgery and she never recovered. I texted her the day before her surgery. We were talking about a game night her next visit. She was so excited visiting, it felt like we had found each other, and we were both so grateful. I so miss her, so so so much. She would have loved what I have done with the library, and she would have been so excited for me being in grad school. We had an aunt Neice connection and had so much fun. We had such a short time together, and I will cherish each second, we had.
Then I think of my brother. The way that we were brought up the kind of home that my mother grew up in, Boys were everything and that clouded our relationship. I will say it over and over, my mother could never be nice to both of us at the same time. She played us against each other and was often in the middle. I was the one who was able to move beyond that, my brother never was. He was the favored, the favorite and I often fell to the wayside. He was never willing to rock the boat and that it what I always did. Even to this day, he let others get between us instead of speaking up and telling them to mind their own business. He is no longer speaking to me. After my mother died there was about a year that he would visit often, and we would laugh and play games. We had dinner. When I found out that he was the sole beneficiary, I was crushed, and it had nothing to do with the money but the fact that I meant so little to her. I spoke about it to my cousin Sam, since they were dealing with some of the same issues. Sam took it upon himself, to tell me brother what he thought and that was the end of the relationship with my brother. I told him I didn't care about the money it wasn't meant for me. I do not know what my cousin said, but my brother completely blocked me out and we no longer speak. Once again, he chooses to listen to others instead of speaking to me. It's hard. Sometimes I miss that relationship, the only family I have left. I still love him and always will. He is totally a product of the house that we grew up in. Sometimes I am relieved that I don't have to deal with the drama, the girlfriend the children, health crisis after crisis. Those are the things that I don't miss but do I mis him yes often. He has chosen to live his life, and I am not a part of that. Heart breaking.
My entire life I have missed out on family. I have been given moments that I will forever cherish. I have my children and the three of us are quite the family. Mariska is fine with what we have I see Vincent longing like I have for family that we don't have. That also breaks my heart that I can't snap my fingers and give him that kind of connection. A very hard place to be family is something that just is not something that can be made up. I think for me there will always be that hole. I hope for my children as they become adults and start their own families that they will be able to create those family bonds that are things I have just gotten glimpses of.
I heart your heart.
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