For whatever reason, I received an envelope in the mail containing several documents pertaining to my departed mother. It was from my aunt, one of a few surviving relatives, and the only one who bothers to try and communicate with me at all. Our communication is sporadic and often forced, but, to her credit, she tries harder than anyone else, and that includes my mother when she was still alive.
Which isn’t saying very much…
I didn’t even know my grandmother’s name. That’s what kind of secrets my mother kept from me. She even lied to me about how long she was married and when they were divorced. It’s just one big drama that keeps unfolding, no matter how much distance I put between myself and them. They continue to mess with me, even though they are all dead.
And why did my mother change these details? What did she get out of it? Was this just an over-correction for all the hurt she endured? Or did she truly resent me, as the one reminder of the man she despised that she could not discard?
I dunno, man. Shit like this wears me out. I’m over here having a nice day, then some unannounced envelope shows up in the mail from an aunt who never really hammered out her guilt or how to handle the maltreated bastard. In it are death certificates, divorce papers, and a grim reminder of my shitty origin story. This family keeps pulling me back in, no matter how much I distance myself.
I guess we just see how it all plays out. This grim parcel has fogged up my mood for the moment, but one glance around this large house filled with toys reminds me once again that I was scooped up and brought indoors. To continue to resent certain people would be to miss out on enjoying all that has gone right in my life.
That doesn’t mean, however, that these things don’t bring me down. I’m allowing myself to kinda feel shitty about it all. I’m just not going to stay that way. Again, to do so would be to squander this nice situation I am in.
So, fuck it… I guess. I wish my aunt would communicate a bit more. Zero plus one equals one, so any communication outside of these awkward and unannounced packages would be an improvement. But what can you do? She’s in her sixties. People love using their age as a reason not to change. If anything, that is what I continue to draw from my family. I guess it’s up to me to be the one person who doesn’t turn out so shitty.
No pressure, right?
Girl, you know it’s true,