Musing on March 21, 2004….
I am not someone who is into the whole concept of “family”.
For example, where many people would forgive the transgressions of their
family members, either upon themselves or other family members, I am
not like that. Well, I am not forgiving when the transgressions
aren’t of an accidental nature—mistakes can be made. Those that
have been accidental, been the results of a mistake (in other words “
unpremeditated”), those I have forgiven. Some things cannot be
forgiven and other things, even if the result of a mistake, if
repeated, if there are no lessons learned…. I have had to distance
myself from repeated mistakes and transgressions, for my own sanity,
for my own survival, my own peace of mind.
With that extended preface’s sentiment expressed, let me say that I
find it interesting to dip my toe back into the water once in
awhile. I don’t mind doing this with my family because it reminds
me of what I escaped from. It’s nice to remember all that, it puts
the other things going on in my life in perspective. The chaos
that I lived within years ago still exists—my sister still battles
against addiction, gleaning from each round “won” transient revelations
before she slips slowly back into the breach; my brother
continues to scheme and spend in exorbitant amounts, never considering
tomorrow; my father still the functioning alcoholic, and still
footing the bill for the rest of the family….
Except me. This is the other thing that I am happy about: The
fact that I am not reliant on my father for the simple act of living day
to day. Yes, it took me more years than I like to admit to come
to my senses and leave. For awhile, I kind of gave up, settled
into laziness and being unmotivated, suckling off the parental teat,
trying to get by doing as little as possible…. I was horrible, at
times, I really was. When I finally was able (and had to) get my
own car insurance, that was the moment that I was truly free, that I no
longer needed my father for support, where I could stand on equal
footing with him, in a sense. Such an inconsequential act to
revel in? Well, yeah. Not all symbols are so brazen and
ostentatious.
So, yes, anytime that I talk to my family or visit the small town
(village, hamlet?) where I grew up, I am reminded of the good times
(there were quite a few of those) and the bad. And I revel and
learn as much as I can from the reminiscing.
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