The original copy...a memory of a quilt
So much in my head...sorry if this is jumbled. Completely overwhelmed at the moment. I guess I'll start with the important stuff and post more as it comes.
Tears for many reasons
I was informed tonight by my Mom that my Aunt Linda and cousins, Charlie and Deborah have decided that I should have the original copy of my Great great grandmother Etta's poems. *sigh* I can't believe it. I cried when she told me...not entirely sure why. Probably multiple reasons.
*It means a great deal to me that they think I should have the original copy.
*Eli and the Thanksgiving connection.
*The fact that my grandparents can't know that I have it...cause my grandmother would flip.
*Being overwhelmed by everything I've found out about my family in the past few days.
*Realizing that I'm honestly not capable of loving my grandmother for what she did to my Daddy and his sisters...and knowing that it puts a rift between me and my grandfather, whom I care very deeply for.
*Being disappointed in myself for not being able to forgive my grandmother for what she did.
*Feeling completely unwanted by my grandmother.
*Feeling understood by my G-G grandmother Etta through her poetry.
*Not wanting my Aunt and cousins to leave tomorrow.
Torn
It's been a long day. I've come to some conclusions about things. My parents have given me full reign to handle my grandparents how I choose. (Not sure what to do with it yet.) I couldn't even stand to be around my grandmother today. When we took family pictures, I made sure I wasn't near her. I tried not to speak to her...I flat out avoided her when I could. I was doing so well...I was almost getting along with her. (Originally my only real problem with her was that we're too much alike and the differences we have are drastic enough that I can't get along with her.) I've been trying for years to get along with her. It's never been an open quarrel or anything like that, I just couldn't stand being around her. But after finding out what she did to my Daddy and Aunts...I'm sorry, I can't tolerate someone who abuses children. There's no excuse for it. I don't care if it was a different time...it's still cruel! I'm so disappointed in myself though...I feel like I should let it go and hate her for it once she's dead, at least for the sake of my grandfather. He's a wonderful man. My Daddy confirmed for me today that the only reason he and his sisters still talk to their mother is so they can still talk to their dad. How absolutely horrible. My Daddy's not even sure if is dad knew what was going on cause he was working two jobs to support them. We all agree that my grandmother will probably be the first to go...personally, I hope so. If not, hello nursing home and never seeing anyone. If she survives my grandfather she will definitely hear it from me about what she did!
A Memory
When I was much younger my best friend's name was Shanna. We went to spend the weekend at her grandparents one Summer. Her G-grandmother was there. She was this sweet white-haired old lady. She was sitting on the couch one afternoon and Shanna and I were on the floor watching tv. All I wanted at that moment was to crawl up onto the couch with her and lay my head in her lap and have her play with my hair.
This memory saddens me, because I realize now that that is how I wanted it to be with my grandmother...either one of them. My mom's adopted mother wasn't that affectionate...she was sorta a hard ass. My mom's biological bitch of a mother was dead...and I doubt I would have let her touch me if she had been alive after what she put my mom and her siblings through. And then there is my Daddy's mother...even when I was little I felt oppressed by her. My cousins in Seattle are lucky they didn't grow up near her. I had to watch every little thing I said and did around her for fear of her wrath on mine and my parents' heads. She never was cruel to me...never laid a hand on me to punish me. But her sly and calculated words did enough damage. Honestly, I think I liked my mom's adopted mother best...even if she was rather unaffectionate, I still felt loved. *sigh* Hind-sight is 20/20.
Memory of a quilt
There was a quilt that my grandmother passed down to my Daddy. I vaguely remember hearing that someone on my grandfather's side had made it, but I don't quite remember who. I think it might have been Etta. One Winter the power went out from a bad snow and ice storm. I went in search of an extra blanket and found the quilt. I used that quilt all Winter, even after the storm was over. I loved it. It was soft and warm and there was just something about it that really made me like it. But when my grandmother found out I had been using it she threw a fit and it was taken away from me. Mind you, this was while I was in high school still. She didn't trust me to take care of it and didn't think it should be used at all. I was so angry! I had grown very attached to it. I have no idea where it is now other than that it's still in the house. If I'm right and Etta did make it, I WANT IT BACK! Who cares what my grandmother says?! I know I will take care of it. I won't even use it really. But I feel such a strong connection to Etta that I want it even more.
Ok, I think I'm going to go cry myself to sleep now. Everyone leaves in the morning. I think I need some time to think about everything and maybe ask a few more questions before I make any decisions on how I'm going to handle this...
Tears for many reasons
I was informed tonight by my Mom that my Aunt Linda and cousins, Charlie and Deborah have decided that I should have the original copy of my Great great grandmother Etta's poems. *sigh* I can't believe it. I cried when she told me...not entirely sure why. Probably multiple reasons.
*It means a great deal to me that they think I should have the original copy.
*Eli and the Thanksgiving connection.
*The fact that my grandparents can't know that I have it...cause my grandmother would flip.
*Being overwhelmed by everything I've found out about my family in the past few days.
*Realizing that I'm honestly not capable of loving my grandmother for what she did to my Daddy and his sisters...and knowing that it puts a rift between me and my grandfather, whom I care very deeply for.
*Being disappointed in myself for not being able to forgive my grandmother for what she did.
*Feeling completely unwanted by my grandmother.
*Feeling understood by my G-G grandmother Etta through her poetry.
*Not wanting my Aunt and cousins to leave tomorrow.
Torn
It's been a long day. I've come to some conclusions about things. My parents have given me full reign to handle my grandparents how I choose. (Not sure what to do with it yet.) I couldn't even stand to be around my grandmother today. When we took family pictures, I made sure I wasn't near her. I tried not to speak to her...I flat out avoided her when I could. I was doing so well...I was almost getting along with her. (Originally my only real problem with her was that we're too much alike and the differences we have are drastic enough that I can't get along with her.) I've been trying for years to get along with her. It's never been an open quarrel or anything like that, I just couldn't stand being around her. But after finding out what she did to my Daddy and Aunts...I'm sorry, I can't tolerate someone who abuses children. There's no excuse for it. I don't care if it was a different time...it's still cruel! I'm so disappointed in myself though...I feel like I should let it go and hate her for it once she's dead, at least for the sake of my grandfather. He's a wonderful man. My Daddy confirmed for me today that the only reason he and his sisters still talk to their mother is so they can still talk to their dad. How absolutely horrible. My Daddy's not even sure if is dad knew what was going on cause he was working two jobs to support them. We all agree that my grandmother will probably be the first to go...personally, I hope so. If not, hello nursing home and never seeing anyone. If she survives my grandfather she will definitely hear it from me about what she did!
A Memory
When I was much younger my best friend's name was Shanna. We went to spend the weekend at her grandparents one Summer. Her G-grandmother was there. She was this sweet white-haired old lady. She was sitting on the couch one afternoon and Shanna and I were on the floor watching tv. All I wanted at that moment was to crawl up onto the couch with her and lay my head in her lap and have her play with my hair.
This memory saddens me, because I realize now that that is how I wanted it to be with my grandmother...either one of them. My mom's adopted mother wasn't that affectionate...she was sorta a hard ass. My mom's biological bitch of a mother was dead...and I doubt I would have let her touch me if she had been alive after what she put my mom and her siblings through. And then there is my Daddy's mother...even when I was little I felt oppressed by her. My cousins in Seattle are lucky they didn't grow up near her. I had to watch every little thing I said and did around her for fear of her wrath on mine and my parents' heads. She never was cruel to me...never laid a hand on me to punish me. But her sly and calculated words did enough damage. Honestly, I think I liked my mom's adopted mother best...even if she was rather unaffectionate, I still felt loved. *sigh* Hind-sight is 20/20.
Memory of a quilt
There was a quilt that my grandmother passed down to my Daddy. I vaguely remember hearing that someone on my grandfather's side had made it, but I don't quite remember who. I think it might have been Etta. One Winter the power went out from a bad snow and ice storm. I went in search of an extra blanket and found the quilt. I used that quilt all Winter, even after the storm was over. I loved it. It was soft and warm and there was just something about it that really made me like it. But when my grandmother found out I had been using it she threw a fit and it was taken away from me. Mind you, this was while I was in high school still. She didn't trust me to take care of it and didn't think it should be used at all. I was so angry! I had grown very attached to it. I have no idea where it is now other than that it's still in the house. If I'm right and Etta did make it, I WANT IT BACK! Who cares what my grandmother says?! I know I will take care of it. I won't even use it really. But I feel such a strong connection to Etta that I want it even more.
Ok, I think I'm going to go cry myself to sleep now. Everyone leaves in the morning. I think I need some time to think about everything and maybe ask a few more questions before I make any decisions on how I'm going to handle this...