Family Ties
I was always that person who stressed that biology and family are not mutually inclusive. Most of who I consider "family" are people from a totally different set of genetics. Family is whatever and whomever you make it. This was an ideology rooted in me from birth, and something that I'm proud to believe in.
My maternal grandparents divorced sometime in the late 60's, leaving my mother an only child, and in 1972, Grandpa married a divorcee with 4 kids of her own. From the time I was born, I recognized all of these people as my family, and never once questioned the fact that we weren't actually related. Gramps wife was my Mema, and I saw her as nothing less than my grandma-I was the lucky kid with THREE of them. Her kids were my aunts and uncle; their kids, my cousins, and I was the oldest of 8 of us. Some of my favorite memories growing up involve these people. I was closer to them than I was to my flesh and blood from my father's side of the family; DNA meant absolutely nothing to me, and I never doubted that they felt the same way.
In 2007, Gramps lost his battle with brain cancer and passed away. It was a huge, significant loss for me especially; not only because I was the oldest grandchild, but because he was the only steady, constant father figure in my life, and I loved him to pieces. Mema asked me to write the eulogy for his service, and my uncle read it. I was honored and humbled. I sat with my family, being the rock for my cousins, all of us holding hands, just to listen to my words being delivered by my uncle, Gramps only son, feeling closer to all of them than I ever had before. It would be the last time I would ever have that feeling. Right after the service, it was almost as if someone came in and severed our ties, and Gramps ashes hadn't even left the table yet. I went home feeling uneasy, but still not convinced; Gramps death had been hard on all of us, and that had to be the reason things felt so weird.
We all talked sporadically after he was gone, but it wasn't nearly as much as we used to. I figured, people have lives, we're all just living. Mema's health started to decline, and that was taking up the family's time and energy. I understood. With most of them being on the East coast, and only my immediate family and my uncle still here in Illinois, you're bound to lose touch under those kinds of circumstances.
2 years ago, my Aunt J and a few cousins came in to town for my Uncle G's 50th birthday. Hearing this through the grapevine, I decided to take it upon myself to pay a visit-maybe they just forgot to call, I thought. So I drove to their town, stopping first at my cousin Steph's home to see the other cousins, and my visit came as a surprise, but I was welcomed all the same. Then I was told that Aunt J was at Uncle G's house, right around the corner, so I thought nothing of taking the quick ride to say hello. Again, my reception was the same, and Aunt J had stepped out. My visit with Uncle G was awkward in the beginning...and became painful about an hour later when I was informed they were all going to dinner and 'sorry, we didn't think to invite you'. Even tho I was standing there in front of them, and they could have asked me along at any time. (Later, I found out that the reason I wasn't invited along was because they 'couldn't pay my way'...little did they know I was sitting on over 5 grand in my bank account, and could have paid for THEM, but their reason for my exclusion was still a slap in the face.) I left there, completely dumbfounded, washed in rejection. Insult to that injury came two days later, when, thanks to good ol' social media, I saw all of the pictures of all of my cousins frolicking around downtown Chicago, all happy fucking go lucky. This came after I even tried to play nice and invite them all to dinner at my place, and got nothing but excuses.
I wonder if I'm being fickle, or an asshole by not going. I don't believe I am, and I feel that my reasons are justified. I'm not doing this out of spite-I just don't think of those people as family anymore; frankly I don't think of them much at all. I know I sound callous now, but understand I was extremely hurt in the beginning of all of this. Knowing you have NO family really eats you up, but I had to move on from it. I don't want to be considered some kind of heartless bitch; I'll send my condolences, but I'd much rather be cheering my son on from the sidelines of his game than fake mourning over someone who cast me out as soon as her link to me was dead.
My maternal grandparents divorced sometime in the late 60's, leaving my mother an only child, and in 1972, Grandpa married a divorcee with 4 kids of her own. From the time I was born, I recognized all of these people as my family, and never once questioned the fact that we weren't actually related. Gramps wife was my Mema, and I saw her as nothing less than my grandma-I was the lucky kid with THREE of them. Her kids were my aunts and uncle; their kids, my cousins, and I was the oldest of 8 of us. Some of my favorite memories growing up involve these people. I was closer to them than I was to my flesh and blood from my father's side of the family; DNA meant absolutely nothing to me, and I never doubted that they felt the same way.
In 2007, Gramps lost his battle with brain cancer and passed away. It was a huge, significant loss for me especially; not only because I was the oldest grandchild, but because he was the only steady, constant father figure in my life, and I loved him to pieces. Mema asked me to write the eulogy for his service, and my uncle read it. I was honored and humbled. I sat with my family, being the rock for my cousins, all of us holding hands, just to listen to my words being delivered by my uncle, Gramps only son, feeling closer to all of them than I ever had before. It would be the last time I would ever have that feeling. Right after the service, it was almost as if someone came in and severed our ties, and Gramps ashes hadn't even left the table yet. I went home feeling uneasy, but still not convinced; Gramps death had been hard on all of us, and that had to be the reason things felt so weird.
We all talked sporadically after he was gone, but it wasn't nearly as much as we used to. I figured, people have lives, we're all just living. Mema's health started to decline, and that was taking up the family's time and energy. I understood. With most of them being on the East coast, and only my immediate family and my uncle still here in Illinois, you're bound to lose touch under those kinds of circumstances.
2 years ago, my Aunt J and a few cousins came in to town for my Uncle G's 50th birthday. Hearing this through the grapevine, I decided to take it upon myself to pay a visit-maybe they just forgot to call, I thought. So I drove to their town, stopping first at my cousin Steph's home to see the other cousins, and my visit came as a surprise, but I was welcomed all the same. Then I was told that Aunt J was at Uncle G's house, right around the corner, so I thought nothing of taking the quick ride to say hello. Again, my reception was the same, and Aunt J had stepped out. My visit with Uncle G was awkward in the beginning...and became painful about an hour later when I was informed they were all going to dinner and 'sorry, we didn't think to invite you'. Even tho I was standing there in front of them, and they could have asked me along at any time. (Later, I found out that the reason I wasn't invited along was because they 'couldn't pay my way'...little did they know I was sitting on over 5 grand in my bank account, and could have paid for THEM, but their reason for my exclusion was still a slap in the face.) I left there, completely dumbfounded, washed in rejection. Insult to that injury came two days later, when, thanks to good ol' social media, I saw all of the pictures of all of my cousins frolicking around downtown Chicago, all happy fucking go lucky. This came after I even tried to play nice and invite them all to dinner at my place, and got nothing but excuses.
I decided I was done with all of them after that. Snip, snip, snip those ties. Nice to know you. Buh Bye.
So this brings me to the present. Mema is fading as we speak, and my immediate family is planning a roadtrip East to pay a last visit. My mother says she's only doing it for her youngest sister, (who admittedly is the ONLY one of the bunch that I still consider family because she's the only one of them that treats me that way) and feels the same about the others as I do. I ADAMANTLY refuse to go. I have absolutely no desire to do so. Mema is passing, and yes, it makes me sad, but then I remember how she treated me like a pariah before my grandfather's ashes even cooled, and it makes me a little less sad. Before and after the service, I had told her I didn't want ANYTHING of Gramp's but a pair of his worn out slippers. They had special meaning to just me, and I wanted them for that reason-these are things she knew, and was endeared by while I was growing up. After his service, she thrust at me a pair of brand new shoes she had gotten for him while he was dying in the hospital. That's all I ever got, and I watched her and her kids divvy up all of my grandfather's possessions between them. Thinking of it still brings hot tears to my eyes.I wonder if I'm being fickle, or an asshole by not going. I don't believe I am, and I feel that my reasons are justified. I'm not doing this out of spite-I just don't think of those people as family anymore; frankly I don't think of them much at all. I know I sound callous now, but understand I was extremely hurt in the beginning of all of this. Knowing you have NO family really eats you up, but I had to move on from it. I don't want to be considered some kind of heartless bitch; I'll send my condolences, but I'd much rather be cheering my son on from the sidelines of his game than fake mourning over someone who cast me out as soon as her link to me was dead.
Once someone is gone, they are gone. There are no more should of, could of, or would of. This woman was once very special to you. Sadly, sometimes things change and we never know why. You may never have the chance to see her alive again. Will something magical happen where you walk in to open arms, the violins start playing and birdies are singing and sun beams and rainbows fill the room? Probably not. But you'll have had the chance to pay your respects for the good memories. To be thankful there were good times. The only one that can take any of that away from you, is you. Good luck with your decision.
ReplyDeleteGod judges us and expects us to forgive Baby, the same as he forgives us. No, she didn't do right by you in the very end but maybe, just maybe, she isn't like us and felt you didn't want her anymore once he was gone. Regardless she was there for all those happy times and to hold hatred in your heart will only make u suffer.
ReplyDeleteBe God's child and say goodbye to the woman you loved for so many years, not the person who hurt your heart while she herself was hurting and lost .