This will be cross posted at Fathom because I want everyone to have a taste of this long story that cares to read it.
For those of you that don’t know me I am adopted, brought up with a violent mother who was an alcoholic, abusive and was what they say today, bi-polar, manic depressive way back when, but loved her dearly regardless.
I was adopted at three weeks of age. My adoptive parents could not have any other children after my (older biological son to my parents) brother who was born in the early 60’s I was born in 68.
When I was about 8 or 9 my parent’s split up after 21 years or so of marriage, tramatic to say the least. My life was pretty weird as it was but to include the fact my mom was a psycho in my eyes I was pretty alone, no offense to our fellow bi-polar members but she wasn’t treated well(medically) back then. I had always been a solo kind of girl but this cemented those feelings. I had few friends and most of our family in town I couldn’t relate to, from my father’s side, my mother’s family were all out of state.
They were stuffy and old fashioned, father’s family. My aunt on my father’s side is an ex-school marm who is married to a now ex-minister, present day. The aunt is a priss the uncle pretty cool despite his religious affiliation. They lived in Texas, us in Colorado but none-the-less they cemented my feelings of my father’s side of the family, too conversative and only concerned with the exterior things in life.
My mother’s side of the family is more liberal but mostly are Republicans, at least my mother was. My uncle has his PHD in something or other, he reminds me of Stephen King. Very intelligent but with a sharp New England comedic side. He actually even has a book published on dry New England humor that also stems from our country’s mother land, England. Please note I use mother land loosely. He is also a professor at James Madison University at this time.
Anyhow, my mother’s side of the family has always been supportive of me being different and doing the things I did and still do. I was a weird kid as far as my father’s side of the family is concerned. My grandmother (Mom’s side) took a shine to me, and supported my creative side, even if a little weird or off base for the norm of society.
She has taught me crochet, latch hooking and encouraged any creative endevour I ever had. She would wrap up “garage sale” gifts as a funky little surprise at Christmas. I swear to you that at Christmas time it would take us four or more hours to go through stockings, Santa gifts and wrapped presents every year because of her. She absolutely loved to give us grandkids gifts, it wasn’t the gift per se it was the joy she got in hunting down a gift, no matter how silly it was, and wrapping it up for us to open.
She is not a woman of financial means at all. My grand-father, whom I never met, died about one or two years before I was born of lung cancer. He was an car mechanic, she was a school teacher so her financial rewards have always been minimal. Somehow, over all these years (34+ years) she has some financial resources, although slight, to send us gifts. Also keep in mind they lived in a dinky ass town in Kansas.
She is 86 years old now, her daughter, my mother, died in 1983 from colon cancer. My brother and I remain about a 6 hour drive from her town (in Kansas) but her only surviving child is in Virginia. She has always carried with her the extreme pain of loosing one of her children before she left, been very bitter over the pain of loosing my mother, her daughter.
So why am I writing this long story you may be asking, well simply put I am asking each and every one of you to honor your elders and love them, care for them and do what you can to visit them as much as possible, this includes your parents.
This Spring my grandmother will be moving to Virginia, a place I know she doesn’t want to go but because my uncle is her sole surviving child she will go. 2000 miles or whatever from her home town as she considers it. if I were more settled in my life I would ask that she move here, seriously.
Since my mother died, she cannot bring herself to even visit me and my brother in our city because of the memories this place holds for her. It breaks my heart because it’s not Colorado Springs that killed my mother it’s the cancer that killed her.
My father, who is a tyrant in his own right, has not been able to see her for at least 20 years. I know in my heart (tears are welling up now) that both my grandma and my dad love one another, they always have. But the thing that kills me is the divorce that got in the way of their caring for one another. Shit, even my uncle (My mother’s brother) came out about 10-12 years ago to see us and that even included hanging out with my dad’s wife.
I know it, I have spoken to both my dad and my grandmother that they love each other. I know they care about each other, it was the damned divorce that pulled them apart. Oddly enough they probably have more in common than my mother did with either one of them.
Well, coming this Spring, late Spring, my grandmother is moving to Virginia to live with my uncle. This is something that I feel is going to break her spirit and her heart. She has lived in her town for so long I can’t fathom what she may be going through through this whole thing.
Well, I spoke with my father tonight and explained to him that I know they love each other and even though it’s been a long time I know that my “G-Mom” would love to see him.
Side note: G-Mom is what we call her instead of grandma and other forms.
Anyhow, he agreed to this, which I am thankful for but there is a possible good outcome that can come from this.
My father is pretty much a butthead when it comes to his children, myself and my brother. We have step-family all over town that has basically taken over the core family, my family, my dad, my brother and me. If the step-family isn’t involved it’s not a family gathering.
Anyhow this has been a sore spot with my brother, his wife and me. Even this year’s Thanksgiving was revolved around the masses of step-family we have and no one ever bothered to ask my brother or myself what we wanted to do. As a core family unit I have decided to hang out with my bro and his family rather than hang out with a large contingent of step-family, sufficed to say my father was not happy with my decision.
Well, with my grandma’s pending move I called my father and asked him to come with me and my brother to see her. He agreed. I am so happy about this but I am still sad in all that may happen as it may be the last time I ever see her.
I also stressed to my brother that this may be a good time for him to connect more with our father. I will stay at my G-Mom’s house, sleep in the back room, stay up as late as she can, smoke cigarettes with her and have some beer with her while they (bro and dad) do some connecting without any other family members present because he (bro) prefers to stay in Dodge City which is about a half hour drive from Kinsley.
All in all I am praying to all that is possible that I can impart to my grandma how much I love her before we come back to pack her up for Virginia. My brother and father are able to use the few days together to connect and that my father realizes that with the short term nature of my grandmother’s life he better get off his ass and reconnect with my brother and me…we are his kids.
I can only hope and pray that a few things happen here.
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I can tell my grandmother how much I love her despite my being a stupid ass granddaughter over the years.
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That if my father and brother make the trip together with me, my father will lighten up on his son and me and know that we love him more than words can say. I hope this is an eye-opening experience for my daddy and he will finally realize that we love him more than words can say and that his love is more important than the appearances of wealth and money or whatever consumes his life.
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That for me I can finally come to terms with my mother’s death. I am not sure I can do this but I would love the chance to, for once, realize that the world takes away those we love the most even if they hurt us…
I thank you for listening to me, I don’t mean to impart a sad world upon you but my grandmother’s move has effected me more than I could have ever imagined. I feel that I have failed her as I am the one person without ties or family. I am the one person I know that could have a household that she would feel completely happy in. She can smoke, drink, do crafts in the middle of the night and it wouldn’t bother me…she could do whatever she wants and I work out of my house so if she wanted a trip to the store I could do it, my uncle and his wife can’t.
I guess in short I feel I am the best person that can be there for her but not the best person to do the job. If that makes any sense.
< sobbing >