Oh, you guys again.
I got an e-mail the day before yesterday.
Apparently, my mom's best friend, in replying to an e-mail my mom had sent her, looped me in on a conversation on her reply.
I don't know when or how she got my e-mail address, but I surmise it's back from years past when I was still living in Viet Nam and blocked my mom and her boyfriend/husband every which way.
It was weird, like, she was responding to my mom and only interacting with her, but I was included on the reply.
Many, many years ago, around the time my grandparents decided to leave Wisconsin and live in Florida, my Uncle Paul decided that he was done with the family and cut off all contact with everyone. My mom has three older brothers (in age order): David, Jim, and Paul. My mom was the youngest and the daughter that my gran really, truly, finally wanted. But my Uncle Paul, was in some ways, her favorite.
When I was little and living with my grandparents, my gran would often take me along when she made visits to my Uncle Paul and Aunt Ginny. I worshipped my Aunt Ginny. She was, I guess looking back now, your typical 70s hippie elementary school teacher. She was about my height, willowy, and had long, straight blonde hair that she kept in a braid that ran all the way down to her hips. Every time we visited, Aunt Ginny had a handful of books for me, a couple of cats to love up, and a project for me to work on whilst she and Uncle Paul visited with my gran.
I recall there was one other meeting with my Uncle Paul, probably when I was somewhere between 10 to 12, at a family "reunion" at my Uncle David's house in Brookfield, but I don't precisely recall the date or my age or even if I talked to him, just that it was a Big Deal that he was there. No Aunt Ginny.
Through the years, only my Aunt Ginny kept in touch with my gran, and that was only through a few cards a year at major holidays and birthdays. Once my grandparents were gone, that was it, there was no contact from Uncle Paul or Aunt Ginny, even though I know that my mom had their contact information (through my gran's address book) and had let them know about the deaths and funeral arrangements. I actually ended up with most of the stuff my gran had told me that Aunt Ginny had called dibs on.
So... all of that to say, this is what my mom's best friend decided I needed to be looped in on. I tried to feel sad, but I don't feel anything. I don't even know these people. It's not complicated. I feel sad for them as people, and I feel extremely empathetic to their situation; I can't say I'd make a different choice than my uncle did. It's shocking, to me, having not seen him for over 40 years how much Uncle Paul looks like my gran and doesn't remotely resemble the image of the man I've held in my head since the late 70s.
http://m.jsonline.com/news/health/heartbreak-exhaustion--and-then-an-end-driven-by-despair-b99724849z1-379820661.html
Rest in peace, my family.
Addendum:
I've actually been preparing myself, emotionally/mentally, for YEARS to get news of family deaths including my mother, in this way. I am really okay, but I appreciate the sensitivity to my possible reactions. It's just weird. Weird that their favorite waitress shares my name, weird that I found out at all, and weird that something like this hasn't happened sooner.
And I can't help but feel that perhaps, if I'd made contact with them as an adult, they'd have welcomed me as a fellow expatriate of our fucked up family. But maybe not. Our strain is notorious for our ability to hold grudges in a multitude of directions, forever.
Apparently, my mom's best friend, in replying to an e-mail my mom had sent her, looped me in on a conversation on her reply.
I don't know when or how she got my e-mail address, but I surmise it's back from years past when I was still living in Viet Nam and blocked my mom and her boyfriend/husband every which way.
It was weird, like, she was responding to my mom and only interacting with her, but I was included on the reply.
Many, many years ago, around the time my grandparents decided to leave Wisconsin and live in Florida, my Uncle Paul decided that he was done with the family and cut off all contact with everyone. My mom has three older brothers (in age order): David, Jim, and Paul. My mom was the youngest and the daughter that my gran really, truly, finally wanted. But my Uncle Paul, was in some ways, her favorite.
When I was little and living with my grandparents, my gran would often take me along when she made visits to my Uncle Paul and Aunt Ginny. I worshipped my Aunt Ginny. She was, I guess looking back now, your typical 70s hippie elementary school teacher. She was about my height, willowy, and had long, straight blonde hair that she kept in a braid that ran all the way down to her hips. Every time we visited, Aunt Ginny had a handful of books for me, a couple of cats to love up, and a project for me to work on whilst she and Uncle Paul visited with my gran.
I recall there was one other meeting with my Uncle Paul, probably when I was somewhere between 10 to 12, at a family "reunion" at my Uncle David's house in Brookfield, but I don't precisely recall the date or my age or even if I talked to him, just that it was a Big Deal that he was there. No Aunt Ginny.
Through the years, only my Aunt Ginny kept in touch with my gran, and that was only through a few cards a year at major holidays and birthdays. Once my grandparents were gone, that was it, there was no contact from Uncle Paul or Aunt Ginny, even though I know that my mom had their contact information (through my gran's address book) and had let them know about the deaths and funeral arrangements. I actually ended up with most of the stuff my gran had told me that Aunt Ginny had called dibs on.
So... all of that to say, this is what my mom's best friend decided I needed to be looped in on. I tried to feel sad, but I don't feel anything. I don't even know these people. It's not complicated. I feel sad for them as people, and I feel extremely empathetic to their situation; I can't say I'd make a different choice than my uncle did. It's shocking, to me, having not seen him for over 40 years how much Uncle Paul looks like my gran and doesn't remotely resemble the image of the man I've held in my head since the late 70s.
http://m.jsonline.com/news/health/heartbreak-exhaustion--and-then-an-end-driven-by-despair-b99724849z1-379820661.html
Rest in peace, my family.
Addendum:
I've actually been preparing myself, emotionally/mentally, for YEARS to get news of family deaths including my mother, in this way. I am really okay, but I appreciate the sensitivity to my possible reactions. It's just weird. Weird that their favorite waitress shares my name, weird that I found out at all, and weird that something like this hasn't happened sooner.
And I can't help but feel that perhaps, if I'd made contact with them as an adult, they'd have welcomed me as a fellow expatriate of our fucked up family. But maybe not. Our strain is notorious for our ability to hold grudges in a multitude of directions, forever.