Hey, Maggie! Aren't I self-centered??? You asked about the first abuse I remember involving you. I read so fast, I only thought about me...so I'll go to your initial question, and I'm off the hook!! Although, I did think about it a lot last night, and trying to remember takes me to a gray fog, not unlike the dark in my recurring dream. I think I'm going to let it alone...for a little while.
The first abuse I remember involving you was probably the time I mentioned at the Gap, when I knew you were out in the woods with B#3. The home before that - I was at school a lot, or at a best friend's a lot. Her family showed me gentleness and patience. Once her dad told me that he cared about me even before he knew I was friends with his daughter. And if I ever, in my life, needed a home, I could always come to them. That may have been the first time I felt special. And before that, you were too small to be out with the bigger kids. So I may have missed something, but the first I clearly recall is the Gap. And I knew because I just asked where you were one day, and the 2 oldest brothers knew. What stuck with me later was after that I noticed that B#3 was a little possessive of you. Weird memory...
You have gone out of your way, gone above and beyond for all of your children. You have paid attention to each individual and found what suited them best. Your kids are exceptional. You should be proud of them, but moreso you should be proud of yourself as a mother. (I think all of the sisters did a pretty good job of mothering considering the problems we have faced. I don't know the brother's families as well, but I am impressed with some of what I have seen and what I know.)
You quoted Mom as saying that she couldn't imagine life without Dad. That's part the marriage vow, and a lot fear. Women are so afraid of being alone. We are right to fear - it isn't easy in this violent, misogynistic society. In my interpretation of our family, I thought Mom was good, Dad was bad for a very long time. I have a difficult time with Dad, simply because he does not like me. But after the baby left home, Mom sat Dad down and had a talk with him - according to family gossip. She told him she never liked the way he treated us. In the course of thinking about it all, I realized I was furious with her. She allowed him to abuse us. She knew and didn't make him stop. It sort of grayed up my interpretations - suddenly they were both good and both bad.
I remember when things changed. I was visiting there once when I started sneezing. Dad said if I gave him a cold, he was coming to my house with his 38. I just looked him in the eye and asked, "You're really going to come and shoot me?" He sputtered and shut up. Maybe that was the first time he realized how violent he sounded. But he always was a bully.
Since we were talking about Grampa Smoke, and I was lost in memory, I was thinking about Grammy. I loved her so wholeheartedly. I wanted to be like her. In my mind, she was able to make all 20-odd grandchildren feel like they were special and loved. She had such quiet, practical humor and made the best of everything. She was mystical - we talked about an experience she had with Mary which led her to conversion to Catholicism, which was required in that day if one married a Catholic. But she married an alcoholic. She was classic codependent that kept the family functioning to allow the alcoholic to live his addiction. I learned in Al-Anon that one does not go into a relationship with an alcoholic unless it seems normal. So there had to be alcoholism in that family. And to me, alcoholism means numbing pain.
She was of Saami heritage, and maybe that was why there was alcoholism.
I remember snuggling up next to her and learning to knit. I remember sharing books. Last night I started thinking about how often we saw her. We didn't live close to her until I was 4, than again the year I was 7. She went to Cali to live with Aunt T. and we saw her when I was 9, when I was 12 and when I was 18. Why did she have such a profound effect on my life when she was around so little? She was not violent. She was always calm and centered...maybe that is why.
I had a dream within the last year where I had one grandma on each side of me, holding my shoulders and slapping my back. They were knocking gross stuff out of my heart.
I'm tiptoeing through the grandparents. I want to remember, to talk about it, yet I am afraid of where it will take me.
C.
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