Family History

 

   Granny passed away February 3rd, 2018. I think a lot of us who were closely involved in her life and her final days are working on recuperating and healing. I don't think that there is any doubt that our lives have changed. There is a sense of relief as well as the loss of someone who shaped the person you were to become.
    My siblings only know my mom's history since her 2nd marriage. Mom married my biological father September 2nd, 1973. I was born September 4th, 1974. Back then, in order to become independent and start a family you married young and went off on your merry way. Mom's home life was bit turbulent before her marriage and each of grandma's children shared in this turbulence. Our family has a history of anxiety and depression. Grandma may have suffered too but she hid it from everyone outside of family.
    My biological father was a narcissist. There is really no other way to put that. You pair a strong woman with a self-centered man and there are going to be clashes and drama. That is what I knew before they finally divorced when I was 8. He partied as hard as he smoked weed. My mom worked 40 hours a week, raised me, and helped him write his college term papers. He pushed her during one outburst and she fell one me, my head hit the kitchen table. The best decision he ever made for my safety was to leave for Virginia.
    When I went down to see him that summer, he refused to send me back to her and my life in Rhode Island. Nowadays, that's called kidnapping. She found a young lawyer and fought hard to win custody of me. I remember being in a room with his lawyer, her lawyer, and the judge and I said that I would rather be with mom.
     He lied a lot. I would catch him lying when I visited. Needless to say, I told him that I had enough by the time I was thirteen years old. I have been in and out of therapy my whole life. My last therapist asked if I would start a relationship with him in the future. While I told her that I had forgiven him, I would decline pursuing that course.
     Mom and I struggled in that little house on Mizzen Ave. in Jamestown but she had already met my stepdad, who really is my dad in all ways. They married October 29th, 1983 and my brother followed August 22nd, 1984. Things were not always perfect but they were far better than they had been the previous 8 years of my life.
    I never saw the Mehl side of the family unless we made the trip down to Roanoke. They never drove up to Massachusetts to see us whereas dad's family, granted only 4-5 hours away in New York, would make trips consistently. My aunt Donna did live in New England for a bit of time and her three children were born there. My aunt Kim did visit when mom graduated from college.
   There was a time in mom's life where she didn't talk to her mother for years. From what I can recall, it was about the time that her biological father passed away and asked for her. Grandma said that she would disown mom if she ever went looking for her biological father's family. Since Grandma's death, mom has decided to find her half brother and sister.
    It wasn't until Grandpa started having heart problems and her grandmother was aging that mom decided to move back to her hometown. Within a few years, I was down there too and realized in less than three months of living here, this area had more potential built up in it's wells than any other place I have had the pleasure of visiting. I was still not close to my grandparents. I loved how crazy Grandpa was and he was a good balance for Grandma. Grandma would make snarky comments to me sometimes and I would snark right back. She knew I would not put up with her shenanigans.
    Grandma unraveled after Grandpa passed away, confirming that he was her tether to the Earth. Caring for her was challenging and rewarding at times. Grandma without her filter was a whole different person. She had the capability to be loving, in the way that confounded her loved ones. We are pretty sure she suffered from anxiety and depression, maybe even bipolar disorder or high functioning autism. Who knows and it doesn't really matter now.
    What does matter is that each one of us has a very different perspective and outlook on life now. I would rather disagree and have those tough conversations with my family than to hide behind a mask of superficial emotions. My aunt just called and reminded me that my fingers ain't broke and she's right. We may each be going through our own emotions but we are not alone. Maybe I should not have written all this mess about my family. Maybe I needed to write it as a way of nurturing myself. Maybe you need to read it and understand that depth involves sacrifice. It involves the sacrifice of pride and fear. We all fear dealing with hurtful emotions but no well meaning growth can ever come from leading an artificial existence. I have to remind myself that it is fine to not be tough all the time and that vulnerability has it's own rewards. They generally lead to rewarding relationships.
   Here's to more rewarding relationships.