Thursday, October 06, 2005

apologies in advance...

but this is the only place I really have for these stories.

my mother has three sisters (all older) and two brothers (both younger). the sisters are each two years apart in age, which is kinda' cool. her youngest brother I've already written about here (beware of ugliness!). that story pretty much says it all. her other brother was a great uncle. he genuinely cared about us kids and seemed to enjoy spending time with us. I was the flower girl at his wedding and he always made me feel like I was his favorite. he probably treated all of us that way but it didn't matter. he made me feel loved and special, which was a rare experience for me growing up.

my mother was the youngest girl. the baby. they were left on their own a lot when they were way too young to take care of themselves. hmmmm, that sounds familiar. my aunts are really great too. surprising when you consider that they were raised by such a terrible person. in fact, the second oldest of them is my favorite person in the whole world after my kids and Brian. she's my hero, I really admire her and love her so much. she has been married for a hundred years and has two grown children. she is fun and youthful and generous and giving and I know that she would do anything for me or Brian or my kids.

the third oldest was a lot of fun too. she used to own a beauty shop and would always give me fancy new hairstyles. I used to spend at least one day a week there and she would give me little bottles of nail polish and soda and stuff. she had three kids, a girl (who I mentioned in that other post that is linked above) and two boys, and was divorced for as long as I can remember. I barely have any memories of her ex-husband, which is a good thing in my book. no memories = no traumatic memories = good.

the oldest sister was also very nice. she didn't live nearby so I didn't see her much. mostly at holidays or other celebrations...that kind of thing. she had four daughters and one son, who was adopted. they seemed like a really happy family. the youngest daughter was my age and her three older sisters were like my older sisters. they had boyfriends and dressed cool and wore makeup and listened to songs I had never heard before. they were pretty and smart and funny and nice. I was little jealous that they all had sisters and I had none. then again, I was a pretty big tomboy so I probably wouldn't have liked having sisters as much as I thought I would.

their parents divorced when I was in high school and their father moved to Texas. quite a few years later, when I was already married and living in Ohio, the oldest daughter finally admitted that he had been molesting all four of them for years. when my mother found out and told me about it, without thinking I asked "how did they find out?" instead of acting surprised or shocked. which is the reaction I would have had if I hadn't already known first-hand that he was a child molester. at the time I was slightly surprised that he would do that to his own daughters. I had no idea that I wasn't the only one.

of course, my mother didn't notice my mistake or my reaction. she just kept talking about it and said that there was some talk that maybe he had done the same thing to me. she was convinced that I would have told her if something like that had happened. how little she knew/knows about me.

so that's my deal. the whole deal, I think. as I've said before, I really don't remember much about my younger years. the details aren't important. and putting them into words somehow makes them seem more real so I'll leave the rest of the story unwritten. you've heard it all before though.

touchy uncle? yes. plural in fact. I'm not sure whether that makes a difference or not though. actually that's not true. one time probably doesn't fuck you up as much as multiple times. one sick, sadistic bastard doesn't make you think that all adults are scary and evil. two sick, sadistic bastards makes you doubt that decent people even exist. two makes you think that everyone you meet wants to hurt you, no matter how nice they seem. two makes you feel discarded, worthless and abandoned.

it's a lot to overcome. not that I've actually done that yet. but I feel like I'm getting closer. this blog helps a lot. being loved unconditionally and accepted for who I am by my wonderful husband helps too. I will never ever be able to thank him enough for everything he does for me. but I'm going to try anyway.