Home Grown

I understand.

I get that you grew up in a different world and time from me. You were bred, born, steeped, submerged, drowned in the culture that they call a “hometown.” Your whole family has lived in the same place for over 80+ years. Your relatives are a stone’s throw away from you. That’s fine. It’s not my business. Your happiness resides in your own heart and it seems you have found it.

I am not cut from the same cloth.

My family moved on average about every three years. I RARELY saw any of my relatives. In fact, I’ve lost most of my relatives already to death. And, no–it wasn’t always neat, pretty, or convenient. I’ve been through some pretty shitty stuff. I stood by my mother’s bed and watched her die. I don’t tie my happiness or soul’s salvation to being at every grandchild’s birthday party for the first ten years (that would have been at least 80 parties by the time they all reached 10.) Hell, I hate my own birthday parties. I’ve put a lot of time in to other people’s death and deterioration, so forgive me if I’m not jumping on the bandwagon to bitch and complain about the downward spiral of someone else. (Been there, done that.) I’m sorry I don’t fit your image of what a perfect family member should be. And I don’t understand what gives a person the right to call out someone else on how they live when they haven’t even made an effort to take a walk for a mile or two in the other person’s shoes. It’s really none of your business. Mind your own frieking life and your own drama. I have my own.

I was extremely blessed with a child whose birth conflicts with the timing of everyone else’s life, and, you know.. I’m not sorry. Watching this child grow, be responsible, respectful, and wise…I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Some day, he’ll probably bless me with a few grand kids of his own, and you can be damn sure I will have the time to spoil them all. You see…when his time comes, my schedule will be completely clear and I CAN go to every birthday party. Until then, I hope you understand–it’s nothing personal, but stop judging me and appreciate me for who I am. Our timing and styles don’t coincide. Hopefully, we can find something that works and move forward from here.

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4 thoughts on “Home Grown

    • Monique…I went through the grandchild battle a while ago, and they understand (I think)…now it’s just random judgmental distant relatives. I don’t see what business it is of others how I choose to live my life. This shouldn’t have been so bitter, but sometimes, it just gets my goat.

      • I couldn’t imagine. I love my granddaughter to death. You are using the blog for its purpose…get it off your chest, shrug your shoulders and carry on!

  1. Ugh. Family. Some of the greatest pain in my own life has its source in the family I was born into.

    I am sorry that you too know this.

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