"We really should stop"

I'm struggling right now on how much to reveal on this subject.  I don't like putting stuff like this out there so that some opinionated person who has not gone through my situation or feelings, can sum up what they think I should have done or how I should have handled the situation  in one sweeping generalization.  Here's the long version.

My parents divorced when I was 8.  My dad's side of the family were all nice enough.  I loved my aunts and uncles and the eventual cousins that came along.  I have many good memories of working the garden with my grandma when I was little, playing with little copper pots she had on these horrible 70's stove lamps, watching the Wizard of Oz with her in bed as well as the TLC show Operation (she was a nurse) before it became something other than The Learning Channel.  There were also aspects of her that could grate a little. She could be dismissive when she didn't want to hear what you had to say with a "whateeeeeever."  She originated the phrase, not the kids of the 90's.  But all in all, I felt loved by her.  My grandpa?  Well...he was a very gruff man, stood for NO crap and the more he knew, the more stubbornly he knew it.  Whatever he believed, even if wrong, there was no telling him that.  (The sky is blue...he says it's pink and you're gonna like it.)  My dad idolized him.  He succeeded in being a lot like him by emulating some of his less than tolerable traits but attempted to balance with select humor and rarely but more so than grandpa...the ability to see reason when presented with facts.  When my parents divorced...I felt almost immediately abandoned by my aunts and uncles.  I don't think it was as quick as my memory makes it out to be but I know that within the two years after, I was not considered much of a part of the family any more where they were concerned.  I wasn't invited to cousin's birthday parties, I was only invited to be with the family on Christmas Eve but it was like the rest of the year, I didn't exist.  It continued to get worse as the years went by and we basically didn't talk.  It wasn't for my occasional lack of trying but they all had no problem painting themselves as the victim to my selfishness.  Apparently from 8 years old on, I was expected to upkeep the relationship with 20 people.  I was expected to do the phone calls, ask to be invited to events and swing by on my own.  I don't know many children who put an adult effort into that many relationships.  I was painted as some evil, selfish witch when THEY dropped the ball early on and gave me no reason to pick it up and run with it later in life.  They liked to tell anyone that would listen that they were the victims while I deserted all of them.  Wow...perception really is reality, isn't it people?  You just assume they're your family and they will always be there.  Well, some of us aren't that lucky.

After a disastrous Christmas Eve spent by the Mr and I where we were basically ignored, I decided I was done taking on the blame for them abandoning me after the divorce.  My dad and I even got in a heated argument twice over my grandparents lack of involvement in my life.  He blamed me and I set him straight and called him out on all of his and their crap.  He made vows to try and failed.  As unlikely as it sounds, I forgave him for that.  I know some people just aren't meant to be parents (raising hand) and while it would've been awesome to have George Banks (Steve Martin) as a father or any father that was more involved, that wasn't the lottery I was meant to hit.  It took many years but I'm okay with that now.  I'm not going to drink the mental poison and expect him to suffer.  Over the past 10 years, I would have this dream where one or both of my grandparents died.  As we entered the funeral home to pay our respects, all of the family would give me dirty looks and some would say "oh NOW you decide to see them."  It would get to me not because they were gone (unfortunately, they've felt long gone for many decades now) it was that people were judging me based on bull crap they ingested as facts.

 I told you that, to tell you this.

The past few years, their health hasn't been the greatest and whenever we pass their house on my way to my aunt's (mom's side)  for our holiday gatherings, I would think of stopping.  I would think of the look on her face and I figured he'd probably make some smart ass comment that made me sorry I stopped.  I'd think of the times she'd say "you never call us" and I would laugh and say "I don't hear your voice on my machine either!"  Not in a disrespectful tone but to let her know, the line goes both ways and you don't call or make an effort with me either.  Matter of fact, I went out of my way a few times to get together with them and got so many excuses that I gave up.  My heart could no longer take the rejection.  It was beginning to hurt and do more damage than I was willing to take on anymore.  After those emotions came flooding back in nanoseconds, I'd lose nerve and we'd drive by.  The past two years I've said "we really need to stop" but then be silent driving past.  My heart is always so torn. But I knew that when that call came that she was gone, I would regret I didn't make the stop.

We stayed late at my aunt's on Easter and when we drove by my grandparents house, I looked over like I always do but this time, Grandma was standing at the open door.  I said "oh my God, Grandma was at the door!"  The Mr asked if I wanted to stop and I hesitated then said yes.  As the Mr turned around I said no, we shouldn't because we still had to work out and I had a horrid headache.  I don't know if he ignored me or didn't hear me but he pulled into her driveway.  The front door was still open and I opened my car door.  When I looked down on the ground, there were burrs everywhere but no burr bushes.  I knew this was a sign from my great grandma (my grandpa's mom).  We lived with them for a year after my grandpa passed and I came back from an adventure in a field covered in burrs and her European temper went medieval on my little muddy, burr covered ass!  I took it as a sign she was happy I was there and I marched up to the front door with the Mr in tow.  I knocked on the door and about 30 seconds later, my grandma hobbled over to the door.  Her blue eyes blinked a few times like she couldn't believe what she was seeing and stood there in disbelief.  Thus began a visit that would bring out many emotions in me when it was over.

Swing by tomorrow to find out how it went because if I typed it now, I would probably win a world's longest blog post award.  (If I haven't already)

====================
Like this post? Don't miss another one...subscribe via email or RSS feed. (Or you can follow me on Facebook )