Family has been on my mind lately. Perhaps it is family reunions, family trips – and now Father's Day.
There are two opposing threads that are tangled in my mind.
Family and Estrangement.
They don't coexist together. Like water and oil they don't mix – yet they roll around in my mind. The desire and longing – with the opposing feelings of wanting distance.
I can't think of family – without thinking of me being on the outside. And how the family circle continues to turn – appearing unscathed.
I almost feel like I was unaware of the path I was taking and what it really really really meant. That standing up and against sexual abuse within the family meant – being on the outside – losing family members.
I don't believe I would have ever dreamed this was possible. I would lose family.
What else I hadn't counted on – was that most of my family would respond differently than I.
I would never have dreamed – we'd all face the same reality and walk completely different with it – based on how we were raised – I would have thought we'd respond the same.
Just as we sorta lived the same.
And, for the most part they did respond the same – except me.
There is one brother who is an anomaly – he walked for awhile on my path and then turned around and headed back. This is partly what stirs my mind and thoughts.
Who was he all along?
Who was I talking to?
What was and are his truths.
How can he fit in both camps – when there is no common denominator between these two paths?
An outlier among outliers.
It is so interesting during crisis, we see parts of our families characters in a whole new light. We perhaps get to know them for the first time.
Until we are put the test – our whole character is not revealed. I met myself for the first time – it broke my denial and showed me who was – and more it challenged me to dare stare at reality and than act accordingly.
It appeared to me – the choices were clear – stand with abuse or stand against it. And I believe they stood with family or against family. Which is different – they separated the abuse from the family.
I could not do that. I wasn't able to separate my father from his abusive behaviors.
To me, each person came with their actions before their title – mom, dad, sibling.
It appears I was affected differently by the realization my father was a pedophile – I chose to stand against abuse. Even when family was entangled. I see it as it is more important – not less.
I am grateful I am on this path – it just comes with strange and complex musings.
In estrangement we have family that are strangers.
We have memories with strangers.
Family is a thing of the past.
I have a family on my branch of the tree – but the feelings of being part of where I came from now seems foreign to me – it has been so long.
My memories of family are tainted by my denial and the abuse. It isn't even a normal family. But, I felt that I belonged. I was part of – there was a connection.
Perhaps another mind game. For in the end the strength of my relationships were very weak. Broken with ease.
That too is shocking – in how quickly my family relationships crumbled – without a fight.
They'd say I didn't fight.
I'd say they didn't fight.
It was like our relationship was a tiny string not worth fighting for.
So as we sit at the eve of Father's Day – I have nothing when I search for father feelings. It was like I thought I had a dad, but it was just a mask hiding what was really beneath.
There are no holidays for masks.
It is almost as if, all I got left with was a pile of masks.
Family relationships now appear fake – no substance to them, nothing worth fighting for.
I know there is a little girl inside of me – wishing it was different.
Wishing for the masks – yet knowing they are not real.
Estrangement is an odd place to live in. You long for what is not there. What was never there.
What I also know, is that grief of losing your family origin – isn't made up for with having your own family. It is a loss. And in my case a huge loss – there are 14 of us plus parents. And the extended families that flow from each – and each again. The older I get the bigger the family grows – more strangers called family.
Yet sitting here. I am grateful.
I am at peace.
While my mind chews – and spins. Not as often as before – but it does come back. Again when family holidays present themselves. We all automatically go to our family, our dad…. back to the complicated mess.
I can turn and refocus. And celebrate the real men who are fathers. Who love, care, an protect their child. Men worth celebrating and honoring.
If you have/had a loving father – I wonder how that feels in your heart?
To look back fondly on your history….
It is like I am afloat – looking toward the future – the past was too fake to keep.
I am grateful to witness my husband as a kind loving dad and grandpa.
My son-in-law a kind and loving dad.
It isn't the same as looking back longingly over years worth of history of loving a dad -
But I can celebrate fathers on my branch of the family tree
I M Perfect lady 