It will happen. I will contact the school, and follow through. But I was having a sad/whiny moment, and was able to trace the root of my emotional reaction. We have ways of interpreting what happens, our own reality of sorts. By identifying the borders of our reality, maybe we can see things differently...like me being a bit less passive, say. And I am planning to do a reduced residency program.
I never knew Aunt J had a short separation from her second husband. I was far enough away to think everything was fine. Combining all those kids had to be stressful. I always thought they were doing a great job. I liked both of them, and I liked them together. If you have a chance to talk to J about the past, about her family of origin dynamics, I would love to hear it.
I remember that night when they showed up in the woods with a carload of kids. There were a lot of us there. I was sitting with B#1 and Cousin M - from Mom's side. We were 15, maybe, possibly a bit younger. And Uncle G came over to our little teen group and tried to buddy in by asking us if we believed in drugs. Smart ass, even then, I said that of course I believed in them. I saw them around a lot. The conversation went downhill from there. We rolled our eyes after he left, but we all liked him. He had a good heart, and we knew he meant well.
MJ has always been fun. I walked into a family reunion once with a bunch of kids, loaded down with baby items, and the first thing I heard was MJ announcing, "Well, Clare would do it!" And everyone looked at me. So I had to ask what I would do. She said, "You would go get a tattoo with me, wouldn't you?" I said I would, but I never did. She does have a tattoo, though. And my kids think she's so cool. But joy does exude from her. I think all the girls got Pop's sense of humor and joyful expectations of life. I remember Grandma was always so silent. She smiled, but rarely laughed.
It always seemed that Aunt L was equally ready to laugh, but quieter. I never quite knew who she was.
What I saw in my marriage, I also saw in that family. It was classism. There was the sense of we're better than you. The girls and their families seems to be better than the boys and theirs. Grandma's siblings wanted to give scholarships to some of our cousins, but not to our family. All of her siblings were better than Grandma, they had more money, better educations. And it trickled down through the generations. That was the root of making children stay outside during family gatherings, I think. And that was why only some people were worthy of the family mementos. My ex-s-in-law recently did something similar after my p's-in-law died.
The other thing that I hated both in that family and with my in-laws was favoritism. They had their favorites, and the others were okay, but not loved as much. Dad did it to us. He did it to our children. Those grandparents did it to their kids and to our generation. My in-laws did it. It created hard feelings. They did prefer the daughters of their daughters to the daughters of their sons.
One thing I always loved about Grammy was that it seemed she could make all of us feel like we were her favorite. She loved all of us as much as she could - without being judgmental. I received birthday letters from each of them when I was 19. Grammy said Have fun! This is such a nice time of life. Grandma said Be careful - especially around the boys.
I never knew that Grandmom had labeled her belongings for each of us. Every summer when we went camping, I used to walk into town and go to their house, spend time especially with Grandma. (I think she was like me, waiting for someone to notice her and want to be with her.) At least once a year she and I would page through all her old family albums. One year she said they were going to be for me, because I was the only one who was interested. They would go great with the genealogical research I jump into on occasion. I asked Mom if she knew what happened to those albums, once, and she said an aunt had them. I think that someday I will ask if I can have some copies made.
Uncle B, the oldest, was mean and scary. I only remember meeting him a few times. I was blowing up a balloon once and he poked a lit cigarette into it so it would explode in my face. Then he had this nasty, cruel laugh. He frightened me. I remember Grandma telling me once that he was just the meanest boy when he was growing up. During the Depression when the CCC (?) workers were putting in the road through town, Uncle B used to throw rocks at them and laugh and run away. In Pop the cruelty was softened by a jokester persona. In B it just seemed mean. He was never real involved with family celebrations, or I don't remember him much from when I was young. Maybe they only visited when we weren't there. The way I think of him is exactly the same way my kids think of B#1. I think B#1 would be surprised if he knew how he was seen.
I agree with you, though. We don't know our relatives. We don't know what their lives were like in private. And maybe they have no idea what went on at our house.
I wonder if MJ would talk.....I recently called Mom to ask for MJ's address to send a sympathy card after her husband died. Dad immediately demanded to know what was in the letter, and told me I had better not be telling her about B#2's suicide attempt...How can we possibly know what is going on in a family like this!!??!!??!!??
Love you, too!
No comments:
Post a Comment