I am also the oldest grandchild in my family. My parents were teens when they had me, born out of a childhood that they barely survived - and here I was. It was tumultuous, to say the least. I do have some flashbacks of it. My mother going off and leaving because she couldn't deal with her life; making her hatred for my father well known to us kids; using us as a pawn. I'll get to those another time.
Tonight, I'm going to talk about family. The ones we have to let go of to do what's best for them.
I grew up different. As the oldest, and quietest, I observed and absorbed a lot. And most of it I kept inside of me until I didn't have a choice. I still do. Unfortunately, as of late, I've discovered that this trait hasn't done me any favors when it comes to matters of the heart and hence why I feel the need to touch on this very subject this evening.
More family means more love. It is not pie. Loving someone that isn't your own child or family member with your entire heart and soul does not mean that you love anyone else less than.
Let that sink in for a second; because most people that I know do not understand it. Especially if you are an adult who has grown up with traditional values and are surrounded by parents and grandparents who were married for over 40 years.
I'll give you the example of my stepfather, Gary.
He moved into my life as a permanent fixture when my brothers, whom I am almost 6 years older than, were just babies. I had a great relationship with my dad and I didn't need a new one. Do I remember hating him because he was there? No. Do I remember resenting the fact that I was treated differently than my brothers, who he raised basically as his own? Absolutely. But here is what I have learned now that I'm no longer in it: He did what he could. He didn't know how to relate to a 7 year old girl who got along with her father and just wanted everyone to get along. I never understood why some people have to hate each other.
Gary had a son from his previous marriage named Chris. Chris's mother resented my mother very much, for what reason, as a kid who cares? They moved around a lot, mostly because she would jump from relationship to relationship, and of course get the kids involved in it. He was always uprooted and dragged everywhere, and that meant that Gary couldn't find him half the time and when he could he was living too far away to be able to get him on the weekends like he was supposed to. Eventually, she was involved with a man who lived out of state and wanted to adopt Chris. Gary signed over his parental rights and let this guy raise his son, who by that time was about 7 - I think, because that was the last Christmas that he came over. The point is, he didn't do it because he loved my mom and my siblings more than Chris. It was because he was doing what was best for him because he loved him. I don't know if Gary ever tried to find him after that. He talked about him a lot. To us it wasn't like he never existed. He was our brother. And we loved him. We do love him. About 5 years ago my sister found him on Facebook and sent him a friend request. He accepted and Gary sort of struggled with this because he didn't know how Chris would react to the idea of reconnecting. They did. And it was beautiful. To me, sitting there watching them sitting on the porch next to each other was like Wimbledon, they are so much alike it was like watching twins. My siblings and I talked openly with him about his feelings about what happened and he gets it. He knew that his dad did what he did because he was tired of the fighting and Chris being dragged into the middle of it.
My mother out of spite - there really is no other way to put it - would not let my father take my brothers anywhere for the first time until they were 6 years old. It was for Easter. He was never allowed to a single one of their birthdays, or holiday. Yet my sister and I went with him every weekend. Her excuse was that they were too little. The reality was that they were a pawn. My brothers now have a relationship with my dad. They aren't ruined as men. They're good dads themselves. Shitty brothers and uncles to my kids, but it's a longer story than the point this blog is for.
Another example, my own children.
My children have not seen their father in person since they were 3 and 5 years old, November 2006. I had told him that I wanted a divorce and he disappeared. I didn't see him again until August 2008 when our divorce was finalized because he was in Maine and we were finally able to get the paperwork filed in April. He made no attempt to see the kids. He was court ordered by the judge to maintain contact with his children every Tuesday and Thursday at 7pm. He was also supposed to let me know in writing if and when moved and his address. The man is so far out of contempt of court it isn't even funny. I have never seen a dime of child support, nor have I ever asked for any. My daughter had a horrible time with fear that I wasn't coming back and my son has had a time with anger management. Time has passed. He has stayed gone. I have kept them out of my dating life until very recently. I got them the help that they needed and my kids are ok.
Sam fucked up. There's no way to put it. He was unfaithful and did something that isn't my business to publish, but he has paid his debt to society for it and he still continues to do so - regardless of the way that most people would see it that know him. His ex wife is now remarried. I don't know what sort of visitation rights he has. I do know that they had their name legally changed to their stepdad's. Something that I learned on my own, I won't say how. I knew that eventually we would have to talk about his girls but I never wanted to push the subject because it was his and as far as I am concerned, if it's something that is deeply personal to you alone, it's my business when you feel comfortable making it so. He admitted something to me today that he never talked to me about before now and I don't think that it was the best avenue, but it needed to be said.
"I love them (my kids) as my own and I'm ashamed that I have loved them more than my own. I feel like I replaced your kids with mine and I'm ashamed."
And that knocked me on my ass. First of all, I didn't know that he loved them. Second, he will never be a shitty person because he did what was best for them. He feels guilty, he cares. A lot. I get it.
There is not a single person that wins when the fight is about who loves the other more. You are in now way shape or form a better person or parent because you are making the other parent look bad. For what reason are you doing it? All that child needs to know is that they are loved. By who, it doesn't matter. It never should.
And to me, it didn't. I loved my family. All of them.
A child does not ever need to know the dirty laundry of what happens within an adult relationship. I don't care if the person is murderer. The custody battles, the support battles - for what? Who wins? Just do the best you can with what you have and keep the fucking kids out of it. Let the children be children for as long as possible, because before you know it, they're going to be grown up and allergic to human relationships because they're so terrified of what they know of love that they'll suck at everything, ever. And I know that because I may or may not be one of them.
My point is: Love is a circle, but it isn't pie.
Shutting one person out to make another person feel better isn't the way to do things.
Guilt is a good thing, it means that you give a shit. Kids are resilient, stop beating yourself up.
What I do know, is that he makes me believe in all the things that I never thought I could have. He makes everything better. And I cannot imagine him not in my life and now I don't know if he will be; and I'm no longer a resilient child.
Also, that it take exactly 3 shots of tequila to make the tears stop long enough for me to pour my heart out in writing form. But then the hour that it's taken me to write this has sobered me up enough for them to flow again if I keep thinking about how I really feel. Therefore, it is enough of both feelings, writing, tears and alcohol. Back to my usual robotic state, until next time.
Be good to yourself.
