I'll be around...
I'm not normally one for family gatherings in the best of circumstances and moods, but today was not only my Nana's (whom I live with) birthday, but also my other grandparent's 50th wedding anniversary.
I don't spend alot of time with my father's side of the family, and last time I saw them was a few week's ago for my Uncle Elmer's funeral (brain cancer) so maybe it was a touch of guilt but I decided to go. I took dessert too because I've been attempting to learn to cook lately, which basically consists of following the recips TO THE FRAKKING LETTER. Back on point, like as soon as I walk in, my Grandma (who has lost alot of weight since my Paw-Paw took this last turn for the worse) looks and goes "Oh, you decided to join the family?" Though not as mean as it sounds? Ha!
I've never really sought out that side of the family because my entire life I was never comfortable with them. Yes, this was partly my fault. I was raised in my mother's family, so when that term is used, that's who I think of. These are people that I share blood with but no actual history. There are no cute stories of bonding, no actual knowledge of who we are as people. I never clicked with them and they never understood me. I tolerated them when I was younger, and when I was older, I made the choice to not see them. The thing is, in hindsight, I didn't understand them either. I didn't make the effort to really know and love them because I felt certain they would reject me (and actually did a few times). I put the wall there and was glad when no one tried to scale it.
They're not bad people, for the most fault. All of them pushy and opinionated and with their own psychological problems, much like anyone. I can see some of them in me and it makes it easier for me to be around them now, though it's still not comfortable.
I don't think I ever told you that my grandmother on my father's side is deaf? She can talk because it happened later in life, but before recent years actually talking to her was difficult because she had to read your lips and I never could really talk to her because of it. I didn't know to make sure I was always facing her when we spoke. She has some hearing now because of an aid she recently had implanted and it makes things alot easier. She and I sat in the kitchen and talked a bit and she told me a story about her grandparents and it kind of struck me that I do love my grandparents. I don't know them and they don't know me, but there is a basic connection there. I came from these people. I have the loud brash anger the entire family is famous for, and I have my Grandma's quietness. I am an amalgram of all the facets of everyone that came before, put together in new and interesting ways.
She was telling me the story of how her grandparents came from the old country at the turn of the century when they were ten or eleven, and she never knew if the name on their papers was the true one. She suspected it wasn't because whenever she'd ask her grandparents about it, they wouldn't tell her and would just start talking to each other in German, which she didn't understand. My immediate thought was "Oh, crap, I'm descended from Nazis," but she actually thought it was the opposite and that they were Jewish and escaped here. Though the timelines don't quite line up, since they'd come over from 1900-1905 sometime. Still...things I didn't know and makes me regret a little that I didn't make more of an effort to be around them. If not my aunts and uncles and numerous cousins (because that's really who I barely tolerate), but at least maybe my grandparents.
It was one of those things where I kind've got lost in the shuffle, though. They had dozens of grandchildren and...I was one of many. Another face in the crowd, LOL.
I don't spend alot of time with my father's side of the family, and last time I saw them was a few week's ago for my Uncle Elmer's funeral (brain cancer) so maybe it was a touch of guilt but I decided to go. I took dessert too because I've been attempting to learn to cook lately, which basically consists of following the recips TO THE FRAKKING LETTER. Back on point, like as soon as I walk in, my Grandma (who has lost alot of weight since my Paw-Paw took this last turn for the worse) looks and goes "Oh, you decided to join the family?" Though not as mean as it sounds? Ha!
I've never really sought out that side of the family because my entire life I was never comfortable with them. Yes, this was partly my fault. I was raised in my mother's family, so when that term is used, that's who I think of. These are people that I share blood with but no actual history. There are no cute stories of bonding, no actual knowledge of who we are as people. I never clicked with them and they never understood me. I tolerated them when I was younger, and when I was older, I made the choice to not see them. The thing is, in hindsight, I didn't understand them either. I didn't make the effort to really know and love them because I felt certain they would reject me (and actually did a few times). I put the wall there and was glad when no one tried to scale it.
They're not bad people, for the most fault. All of them pushy and opinionated and with their own psychological problems, much like anyone. I can see some of them in me and it makes it easier for me to be around them now, though it's still not comfortable.
I don't think I ever told you that my grandmother on my father's side is deaf? She can talk because it happened later in life, but before recent years actually talking to her was difficult because she had to read your lips and I never could really talk to her because of it. I didn't know to make sure I was always facing her when we spoke. She has some hearing now because of an aid she recently had implanted and it makes things alot easier. She and I sat in the kitchen and talked a bit and she told me a story about her grandparents and it kind of struck me that I do love my grandparents. I don't know them and they don't know me, but there is a basic connection there. I came from these people. I have the loud brash anger the entire family is famous for, and I have my Grandma's quietness. I am an amalgram of all the facets of everyone that came before, put together in new and interesting ways.
She was telling me the story of how her grandparents came from the old country at the turn of the century when they were ten or eleven, and she never knew if the name on their papers was the true one. She suspected it wasn't because whenever she'd ask her grandparents about it, they wouldn't tell her and would just start talking to each other in German, which she didn't understand. My immediate thought was "Oh, crap, I'm descended from Nazis," but she actually thought it was the opposite and that they were Jewish and escaped here. Though the timelines don't quite line up, since they'd come over from 1900-1905 sometime. Still...things I didn't know and makes me regret a little that I didn't make more of an effort to be around them. If not my aunts and uncles and numerous cousins (because that's really who I barely tolerate), but at least maybe my grandparents.
It was one of those things where I kind've got lost in the shuffle, though. They had dozens of grandchildren and...I was one of many. Another face in the crowd, LOL.