...but shouldn't family be strong?

It is quiet here.  The pace of my days has changed.  Usually my every day includes dogs.  Now there are no dogs.  But I will get used to it.  The cat seems to be aware that she is the only four-legged, and is spending a lot of time with me.  I'm not sure if it is for her, or for me.  But I appreciate her.

In this quiet, when I feel that silence down into my soul, I have been thinking about your words:

...but shouldn't family be strong?

I was thinking about the way we were raised.  We weren't raised to be nice to each other.  We weren't raised to be kind.  We weren't raised to be aware of our siblings.  We were allowed to blame and make fun.  We were allowed to belittle.  

Yet I remember that on one army base, a group of kids were terrorizing the others.  We were the others, and we were slightly younger - this is the base where you were born.  We fought for each other there - your older brothers and I.  Sometimes we had each other's back.  And I remember B#1 getting into a fist fight with an older boy in the awful town we return to most frequently.  I wanted it to stop, and so every time the older boy would roll by, I would kick him in the back.

Sometimes...

But then we would come home and fight and disrespect each other and be mean.  The things we said to each other was absolutely cruel.  And no one stopped us.  No one modeled graciousness and loving kindness.

I was with my first long-time boyfriend one night.  I was teasing him the way we used to tease each other.  He stopped me, looked at me, and asked me if I realized that what I was saying was hurting his feelings.  I didn't.  I didn't know it was rude and mean.  I didn't know I was rude and mean.

We never learned about abundance.  We only learned about scarcity.  If Mom loves you, there is nothing left for me.  If they let B#1 have music lessons, there will be nothing for me.  How many times did we hear,  "We can't afford..."  And financially, maybe we couldn't...but I often come back to that feeling of great loss.  I look at us, I look at the talent and intelligence and the beauty of you and of our siblings.  We had great potential to do great things, to be a warm and exciting family.  Sometimes I wonder if it is still possible.  Then I wonder if it matters...

Things don't matter as much as memories.  What memories do we take?????

We had a family drama recently.  I know you missed it, and I wasn't going to address it, but maybe I will...You know everyone was going through the house labeling things they would like.  Two of our sisters agreed to take some of the larger pieces for their kids, mostly - to get them started.  Reportedly, Dad was going to get a truck and drop stuff off.  Then again reportedly, he called them and said they are closing now, moving now, get stuff now.  Neither was prepared.  So either - no stuff or scramble and change your weekend to accommodate Dad.

I remembered all the times Dad made announcements of what we would do and of what he would do, and said he would help.  Then he backed out and was furious with us.  Our parents seem to focus their mean reactions toward one sib, and it breaks my heart.  How much rejection can we take.  Especially since their hard feelings come from what happened when they did not protect their child...

...but shouldn't family be strong?  

It's just the same old unhealthy same old...

I don't have faith, sometimes, that it can change...

But we are talking - you and me.  We are changing, so there is progress in our generation.  There is love and connection and a struggle for openness and vulnerability.

Thank you,

Love you,

Clare