My oldest son accompanied his wife to a professional training. He watched the kids and had adventures while she was in sessions. They stayed in an eclectic hotel. While they were in a pool, my son struck up a conversation with another man...(foreshadowing - who looks a bit like him)...and they both noted they were from the same area of the country. Later in the conversation, they got a little more specific, ending with dropped jaws. What are the chances of striking up a conversation with a stranger who shares great grandparents with you?
Actually I am wondering how common it is. But how often do we take time to know each other deeply?
As a result, I virtually friended his uncle, who is our cousin. These are the offspring of Papa's oldest sister. I looked at pictures and felt like crying. He looks like family.
The connecting factor in the original conversation was the recent military funeral in Arlington. Apparently that has made the rounds in the family.
I was thinking about Papa's funeral. Our only cousins there were Mama's side. I mused about that and thought about how abuse flings families so far apart. We can't wait to get away from the pain. Unfortunately we take it with us, and spread it out further and further. So it seems there was less abuse on Mama's side...families are a bit more connected.
I was thinking about our older cousin, and thought about his parents being dead, thinking about those passings, about no one living there any more...well, maybe the youngest brother...wondering how that felt.
Then I realized we sort of lost that when Mama and Papa sold their house. But I never lived there. I had an ancestral connection, which I recognized because of my fascination with family history. But I was thinking nowhere felt like home with Papa.
I am in a weepy mood.
I was also thinking about meeting claiming me. Lately my meeting has been reaching out and including me. I am feeling a little lost, but there is home just in front of me. Are we not a joined meeting because I have not joined, except on paper?
When we lived on the farm we had two different friends move in temporarily. Both were going through divorces and losing almost everything.
One of them has had a second divorce. During that marriage she paid the mortgage, he paid the taxes. After he walked out, she found out they were way behind on taxes, and lost the house. I am going to talk to the kids, but I think she may end up here temporarily, again, until she gets back on her feet. (Need to talk to the kids, because my friend comes with a flock of sheep!)
With a story like this, you know damn well someone beat the shit out of her...physically and/or psychologically.
Are we ever safe? Where do we find home? I am feeling very lost and helpless and incapable of adulting. I feel like I have not done anything right at all.
It all seems unfixable. I am furious with Papa. Because of him I never felt like I had a home. I always knew he was just counting the days until I was out. He told me often enough to remind me I was not welcome.
Now I don't feel welcome anywhere...
When we came down to Arlington, my daughter and her boyfriend asked me to come with them. They reserved a room for me for two nights. The third night I was going to stay with S#3. I chipped in as much as I could. I appreciated it. But plans were changed and I ended up with my youngest the third night.
I thought about it later, and realized everyone was in the hall discussing the Clare problem. I just decided that if I can't afford things I will not go.
I am hiding in my little hole, not asking for anything, and still I feel like a problem for the world.
I am crying as I write, I need this I think.
Papa's legacy...Papa's family's legacy...when I look in the mirror, I see his mother...
But now, two, three generations later, kids have found each other in joy and curiosity.
Do we find each other ever?
Love and hugs and a few tears,
Clare
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