I suck, I know. Shut up. I can't even use the excuse that I've been working, because that's not why I've been slacking off. There are two reasons, really. One is that I've become obsessed with my family ancestry. I got free access to ancestry.com at one of my jobs and it has spiraled from there. It's consumed every free moment. The second reason is because I noticed the other day that Ben and I have fallen into the habit of coming home from work, going to our separate corners every night, and not spending any time with each other. This was one of the biggest signs of trouble in my marriage and ultimately led to its end. So, I've been making a conscious effort to spend more quality time with him when we're both home, since that doesn't happen that often. So sue me for trying not to ruin another relationship. In any case, this ancestry thing has been fascinating.
When I started out, I was hoping to find something sordid. I wanted to find out that my family were slave owners or something, because both sides have always played the whole innocent Christian thing. I enjoy unraveling those fake perfect families and finding out the dirty back story. Even if it is my own. So far, I've found some interesting stuff, but nothing like that. I found one person who murdered his wife, but it was a brother-in-law of a great aunt, so that doesn't really count. I also found out that my great-grandfather died in a mental hospital, which no one in my family knew, because my grandfather would never talk about it. Besides that, I've found a ton of dead babies that people also didn't know about. It's been cool, and it's been getting me to talk to my family a lot more, which I admittedly don't do that often. Most of them, I just don't enjoy talking to. Mostly, I'm just lazy and a horrible daughter/cousin/sister/aunt/etc. So, this has been opening those lines up more, which has been great. My parents have been telling me some cool things about my family that I never knew before, and I've also discovered a possible Native American link, which has me all kinds of excited. But, so far, the most rewarding part was a story my mom told me. You're going to think it's a bit odd, but I'll explain why I'm holding on to this story after I tell it.
So, my mom and I were discussing when her mom (my Nanny) died. I was three at the time and my brother was six. We were living at Nanny's house with my mom, who was in the middle of divorcing my dad. Nanny was sick and mom moved in both to help out and because she needed somewhere to stay. It was convenient for both of them. I mentioned to my mom the other day that I felt like I remembered the day Nanny died, even though I was barely out of diapers. I said there was a chance I was remembering it wrong, and asked if I could tell her what I remembered to see if that's how it happened. For my entire life, I have always remembered walking into my brother's room with him and seeing my mom crying on the edge of his bed. When we asked what was wrong, she told us that Nanny had died. I told my mom this story and she said that probably was how it happened. She then asked me if I remembered that my brother and I had been sharing a room at that point. In the room was two twin beds, one for each of us, and my mom was staying in Nanny's room, who had just been taken to the hospital earlier that day. Mom told me that that night, at about 4am, she woke up with a cold chill. She walked into the room I was sharing with my brother and went back to sleep on the floor between us. The next morning, she learned that was exactly the time when Nanny had passed.
I didn't tell that story because I believe it means something (although Ben and I did discuss how that also happened to his stepfather, and it made me wonder if we're so connected to our parents from birth, that this sort of thing happens to everyone. I hope I don't find out any time soon). I don't believe in spirits, or the afterlife, or any of that stuff, so I wasn't struck by her chill. I was struck by the unbelievable vulnerability of her story. I can count on one hand how many times I've seen my mom cry in my life. Most of them were after my stepdad died, and even that wasn't a lot. She always been a pillar of strength. She's been through a lot of shit, and dealt with a lot of crappy people, and a mother who was lovely, but not good at showing affection. Her dad died when she was five and her mother didn't work, so a lot of responsibility fell on her at a very young age. It takes a lot to get her down.
I don't remember my parents getting divorced, but I know now that they are far better apart. I can't imagine what my life would have been like if they'd been together. Having been through one myself now, I know how difficult it is. And while I didn't want to move back in with my mom, it ended up being the best thing for me. I did need her, even though I didn't want to admit it. And now, I would imagine, that she needed hers. When she told me that she woke up and went and slept between me and my brother, I immediately saw her in a different light. She was still that pillar of strength, but she was more...human, I guess. I feel like sometimes we all fail to see our parents as the people they are. In that moment, she was exactly in between being a mother and still being a child. She was essentially alone in her childhood home and with nowhere else to go when she woke up scared, she turned to her children. But, she didn't slip into bed with one of them and hold them to comfort her. She let them sleep, instead choosing to sleep on the floor between them. She needed their presence as much as they needed hers, because she couldn't have her mom's anymore. I can't imagine what that time must have been like for her. I know how it felt losing my stepdad smack in the middle of my divorce, but this is different. There were no children involved in mine. And it wasn't my mother. It wasn't the person I turned to when my life turned to shit. It wasn't the person who was there when I had nowhere else to go.
There's a part of me that's sad that I didn't get to see that side of my mom back then. Knowing her, I'm sure she pulled herself together and did what needed to be done. I'm sure she was the one in charge of selling Nanny's house and getting things in order. Her divorce from my father was finalized that exact same day (talk about a bad day!). When my stepdad died, she immediately kicked into gear. I remember telling her repeatedly to slow down, in case she ended up getting rid of something she'd regret later (she did). But, it was her therapy, she said. It was what she needed to do. It kept her occupied. And I'm sure she handled things exactly the same way back then. I wish I got to see more of that vulnerable mom. I wish there were more nights when she slept on the bedroom floor just because she wanted to be near me. We never stop being our mother's children, no matter what happens in our lives. And now I see that. I'm glad I do.
Talk to your parents. They tell you stuff. If they're not around, talk to grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings, cousins, anyone who can give you some insight into your family and essentially yourself. You'll find some cool stuff.
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