Over the past 30+ years, I had come to believe that when a certain bit of particular news finally came my way, that my reaction would be minimal. Yesterday an incredibly similar version of that particular news made it's way to me and it was of no surprise that it had little impact. This likely means that when the more specific, original news passes my way, I will have been quite right about my lack of reaction.
The first part of my childhood was a mixed bag of good and bad. The good was memorable enough that I can look back on those times and allow myself to feel warmed by them, even recall them with genuine fondness, despite the large amounts of ugliness that followed. My mother's first husband was abusive. A narcissist of epic proportions, this man (though I use that term loosely) took exceptional joy from exercising his control in the most brutal manner. I bore the physical evidence often over the first twelve years of my life, and while those injuries always healed, the psychological and emotional affects lasted decades longer.
As a parent, I cannot fathom being confronted with either of my sons committing such awful acts of violence upon anyone, letalone their spouse and children. Neither of my children have narcissistic tendencies and while they occasional allow their tempers to come out by shouting or throwing something, they do not direct it at others. There are no guarantees in life, but I believe my sons will not sink to the lows of physical and emotional abuse. In the unlikely event that either of them do, I will not hesistate to intervene and fulfill my parental role, and I will not make excuses. It is my upbringing and influence that brought them into adulthood, after all.
I believe my views on my role as a parent have been shaped by the varying examples of good and not-so-good parenting I have witnessed. The number of positive examples far out number the negative, but those few negatives served as cautionary reminders of what to teach my sons to avoid. Sadly, during a time in my life when I needed reassurance, unconditional love and protection from this man, nearly the entire side of his family abandoned me. Worse, they blamed me for his actions. My grandparents - his parents, turned blind eyes to the abuse and they, along with an uncle and an aunt turned their backs on the eleven year-old child I was, igniting a family war with the one uncle who refused to do the same. Never, not once in the past 34 years did this uncle ever waiver in his support of my sister or me. He and his wife maintained a healthy connection with us and our family, including my mother. No matter how difficult it made their relationship with his brothers, sister and parents, my aunt and uncle remained true to what they saw as right. In this way, I have been able to stay tied to the best parts of that family.
My uncle's father passed away this week. I have no feelings of regret that my relationship with him as a grandfather was never mended. In fact, were it not for my feelings of sorrow and empathy for my uncle, aunt and cousins, I would feel nothing at all. The most incredible part of this is that I can think back to my early childhood, before the tumultuous times and remember his smile. I can almost feel the warm sun beating down on my back when I remember days of picking vegetables in the garden, helping chop and stack wood in the backyard, and playing on the tree swing in the front yard while he sat on the porch. I actually treasure these memories now, though it took me a long time to be able to say that.
Maybe it is that side effect of self-preservation - compartmentalizing things, maybe it's part of maturing as a person; I can't say for sure. Being able to appreciate something like those childhood memories without immediately feeling the hurt, pain or sadness of memories of painful times that were once connected is an incredible experience. Without a doubt, I am grateful for the good, loving memories I have with the man that was once my grandfather. There are no bitter or regretful feelings with his passing, and I am able to maintain my inner peace while I extend support and genuine empathy to those I still have relationships with during this time.
I have lost many people in my life, through death and through choice, but I have been blessed with the positive presence of so many more. What I gained when my uncle and aunt refused to sever the bond they had with me is without a doubt far more valuable and deeper rooted than I believe any continued or mended relationship with the rest of their family could have ever been. I don't mourn a loss, because despite traditional expectations of familial relationships, I have lost nothing. My uncle, aunt and cousins hurt and I hurt for them, the feelings I have are completely for them and their sadness.
There is something amazing in that realization and even more incredible in owning that truth.
Beautiful, Tammy. <3
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