Thought I heard a young man mourn today
I guess it doesn't matter anyways
This is an appropriate time for me to post something somewhat bleak as we are now one day away from Daylight Savings time, and slowly approaching the saddest time of the year for me. Autumn always seems to represent grief and loss for me, so a title thread with the word "mourn" in it is the winner this week. Anyone who ever saw Jerry Garcia sing this song (author listed as Bonnie Dobson) live knows how much raw grief and emotion came out of this voice when he did. And the subject of loss and grief here is going to revolve around the family I was born into, so here is the warning right now to not go any further if you want to stick with pleasant topics. My older brother recently asked me how I come up with these ideas when I write them. In this case - it has been a haunting of my own, but not the cheesy haunted house, ghost, vampire, or monster you may be seeing out this time of year around town - this is a real emotional haunting that has been a part of me for my life. In thinking about this subject ahead of time for the last week, I have woken up in the middle of the night and had trouble sleeping pondering this. Some very tired next days have been the result of what I am about to write. There may be other characters involved in the haunting, but this is not about pointing the finger. I have tried that before, but my final conclusion is that it really isn't anyone's fault when it comes down to it - or it's everyone's fault - but it can't come down to one person.
It starts with an informative web link to an article labeled Understanding Latino Culture that I came across while assisting Victoria in research for a paper she has in her local Anthropology class. It is hard for me to read this article from start to finish, but there is one thing that stands out very clearly to me - just about everything in here is a sharp contrast to my experience of my family during my childhood. Compared to the closeness and bonding described in this article, my family was a family in name only - because all of the actions and attitudes I know of are about as far from this article as anyone could possibly imagine.
I believe that both of my parents are broken people, haunted by pasts of their own. My father grew up in poverty and lost his parents early on, and he never really recovered from it. He was motivated to change his class status and have the material means to provide for us all, but emotionally, there was nothing left for him to give us. I don't remember any real involvement until I went into my depression, and at that point he attempted to make up for lost time. He was there physically - he took us on trips, did toss a baseball around from time to time, and he could be an incredibly charming and charismatic person when he was in the mood, but overall there was an unreachable wall around him - not something he could control, but was there nevertheless. My mother, who was drawn to his angry and removed personality - seemed to marry her own father through him, and with that in mind - I am sure it was not easy growing up in her house either. Her own father from what I know was subject to fits of rage and his own madness ultimately consumed him. Asked if I would want to trade places with my father, no - I would not - but at the same time, if my main ambition at the age of 20 was to find a way to end my life, I would surmise that somehow or another, despite the difference in material means, that emptiness and darkness he experienced got transferred down to me. I wasn't there when they were raised and this is all second hand, but the main point I am getting at here is two broken people trying to build a family is like a construction worker trying to build a house with broken bricks - if the material is not there, even if the effort is - it is bound to fall apart - and from my experience, that is exactly what happened. So saying it is their fault is too simple, it goes back generations upon generations of unfortunate events.
With that in mind though, family values were given lip service only. We were constantly reminded of the other's shortcomings when the other person was not around to speak for his or herself. Talking behind the other's back was common, especially with the parents doing this - as if in some ways, the line between the parents and the children was never really established - as some would say this is pretty childish. We were taught to mistrust the other, and to this day, have received constant reminders of the pending bloodbath that will occur once they pass on, as we will be clawing, kicking, and scratching for every last inherited possession of theirs. Our actions and decisions were always questioned and doubted. So is it any wonder that none of us are close, that my younger brother can only experience a brother through his in law and not his real life brothers, that all of us have looked to something outside of our family to fill the void that our real life family presented? It might seem crazy to some that I post these writings so openly, but if not for that nobody in my family would have any idea who I am and what I think. This is the way I reach the family members that read this - and it is pretty sad that this is the only way I can - but something is better than nothing.
Although we are a "dysfunctional" family, that alone cannot provide an explanation for our distance. In my wife's family, the head of household was a chronic drinker prone to fits of violence, and the police were called out on a regular basis. The mother was constantly depressed and overwhelmed - but yet in spite of all this, there is a real sense of family there that is not present in our dysfunctional family. I am sure that it is clear to our daughter Sara that there is a difference, in that the family members on her side will make an effort to stay present in her life even when she is away, but in our family - out of sight, out of mind - once she says goodbye to them, she will never see or hear from them again, absent a holiday card or present. There just really is no sense of family with us as there is with my wife's side, and the differences are very clear.
From my point of view, I always wanted this to be different, but after years of trying to reach out to everyone, I finally realized I was going against a wall. You can't make people be close who just don't want to be. I realize that part of the blame lies within as well and it is not fair to be blaming everyone else. I am a part of this too, and yet it seems clearly beyond me. For whatever reason that I can never really know or understand, I will never really know just about anyone in my family. I am closer to my older brother and his wife, and can have more direct and genuine communication there than anywhere else. As for my remaining siblings, there is a hell of an act that requires a strong effort to maintain while I am present, but once I am gone, it is like I was never there to begin with.
There is a section on the role of the grandparents in the paper. The grandparents on our side have one ambition - and it is to get as far away from their grandchildren and travel the four corners of the Earth. They worked hard for what they have, it is their choice, and what they want. Their travels have come as first priority to the point of being away from the birth of some of their grandchildren. At one of the Bar Mitzvahs, I was put in a somewhat awkward position of having to explain to the other side of the family why they were not there for that either and I know technically they can turn all this around and blame circumstances and changes of plans, but the reality is - priorities are priorities, and travel has been number one for them, and how dare anyone question it. They waited a month to even see my daughter, even though they were two hours away, and the first visit in a month was a quick drop by on the way to a play. Compare and contrast this to one local friend of ours, where the mother came down from Seattle to stay with them for a long period of time for the birth of that child. But again - I can't criticize them - they do the best they can and offer what they can, unfortunately, they are so broken they have nothing to offer except for a re-count of their travels and the constant reminder of the estate they will leave behind. My father once questioned why some were not present at the 50th anniversary gathering, and my question in response was why would they want to be there - his answer with a grin was "dollars, lots of dollars". If that is all you have to offer someone, in my mind that is the definition of a tragedy. They lived in the same town as my older brother when he had his children, but made a conscious decision to be absent in any type of real participation there. I think if they were emotionally capable of being involved, they would have been - but it just was not there. I don't know if on one of their dying days there will be any regrets that they were not involved more, since they don't believe in life after death and really only live on in our minds. I must sadly conclude that as easy as it would be to criticize their actions, they have given us the best they did have to offer.
Which brings me to being thankful for what I do have - I am self-sufficient now, I am capable of providing for my own family, I work hard, exercise, have no real health problems to speak of, and I feel spiritually connected to the world around me. They put me through school, gave me the model of sticking together as a married couple that has motivated me to stick it out on my own, a lot of what I have I owe to my parents and I have never had to go hungry. I do have a debt to them in spite of the lack of any real family presence now. It is not all bad so to speak. I am not lying at the padded walls of a mental institution as I once expected my life outcome to be. Despite the grief in writing this, overall I would say I am somewhat happy and content with who I am and what I am - and I do owe this to them, so this is not a black and white situation. There are those that starve, are beaten and have no hope and I do not fall into that category - at least not now anyways.
All the same, this subject of loss and mourning has been with me my whole life. I have always longed for a family in the sense of the word described by the article, one where it is a life time commitment and all participate and contribute, where there is a real meaning to the word and sometimes I wish I was Mexican just so I could experience this. As a compromise, I just married one and the closest I can get is living it second hand. As losses go, it may be easier to live with then a loss of limb, loss of sight, or loss of ability to walk on two feet - but make no mistake, it is still a loss anyways and to have any hope that it will ever change is just deceiving. Although we will still be polite, I will never know my younger brother and the events of 30 years ago will haunt him forever - I may have some blame there, but this just will not change. He did make the effort to visit us a few times, but every visit seemed to be cursed with something going wrong time and time again, until it became clear that despite his good intentions, the darkness and anger toward the mean older brother of childhood years will be a permanent mark in his psyche. I just simply will never have a relationship of any kind with him. I wish him well, but that is just the way it is - too bad because we are a lot alike and have a lot to offer each other, but as I find with the entire family, any hope of a real relationship is about as dead as the cold grave stones resting at the cemetery here.
It is overall a time to mourn what I never had and never will have with my family, but just like the ghost of future present in Scrooge, it is also a warning to me that I have to do everything I can to avoid the Cats in the Cradle song and be there for the family I do have. I want to be there for my daughter in a way my parents could not be there for me. I want to be there for life, and God help me if I want to be traveling around the world when and if I am fortunate enough to be alive when she has her own children. I want my own small family to have the closeness and warmth that I never experienced for myself. With time, effort, prayer and a little help from some supernatural powers, just maybe I can make the change in this generation of the cursed family I come from.
This is an appropriate time for me to post something somewhat bleak as we are now one day away from Daylight Savings time, and slowly approaching the saddest time of the year for me. Autumn always seems to represent grief and loss for me, so a title thread with the word "mourn" in it is the winner this week. Anyone who ever saw Jerry Garcia sing this song (author listed as Bonnie Dobson) live knows how much raw grief and emotion came out of this voice when he did. And the subject of loss and grief here is going to revolve around the family I was born into, so here is the warning right now to not go any further if you want to stick with pleasant topics. My older brother recently asked me how I come up with these ideas when I write them. In this case - it has been a haunting of my own, but not the cheesy haunted house, ghost, vampire, or monster you may be seeing out this time of year around town - this is a real emotional haunting that has been a part of me for my life. In thinking about this subject ahead of time for the last week, I have woken up in the middle of the night and had trouble sleeping pondering this. Some very tired next days have been the result of what I am about to write. There may be other characters involved in the haunting, but this is not about pointing the finger. I have tried that before, but my final conclusion is that it really isn't anyone's fault when it comes down to it - or it's everyone's fault - but it can't come down to one person.
It starts with an informative web link to an article labeled Understanding Latino Culture that I came across while assisting Victoria in research for a paper she has in her local Anthropology class. It is hard for me to read this article from start to finish, but there is one thing that stands out very clearly to me - just about everything in here is a sharp contrast to my experience of my family during my childhood. Compared to the closeness and bonding described in this article, my family was a family in name only - because all of the actions and attitudes I know of are about as far from this article as anyone could possibly imagine.
I believe that both of my parents are broken people, haunted by pasts of their own. My father grew up in poverty and lost his parents early on, and he never really recovered from it. He was motivated to change his class status and have the material means to provide for us all, but emotionally, there was nothing left for him to give us. I don't remember any real involvement until I went into my depression, and at that point he attempted to make up for lost time. He was there physically - he took us on trips, did toss a baseball around from time to time, and he could be an incredibly charming and charismatic person when he was in the mood, but overall there was an unreachable wall around him - not something he could control, but was there nevertheless. My mother, who was drawn to his angry and removed personality - seemed to marry her own father through him, and with that in mind - I am sure it was not easy growing up in her house either. Her own father from what I know was subject to fits of rage and his own madness ultimately consumed him. Asked if I would want to trade places with my father, no - I would not - but at the same time, if my main ambition at the age of 20 was to find a way to end my life, I would surmise that somehow or another, despite the difference in material means, that emptiness and darkness he experienced got transferred down to me. I wasn't there when they were raised and this is all second hand, but the main point I am getting at here is two broken people trying to build a family is like a construction worker trying to build a house with broken bricks - if the material is not there, even if the effort is - it is bound to fall apart - and from my experience, that is exactly what happened. So saying it is their fault is too simple, it goes back generations upon generations of unfortunate events.
With that in mind though, family values were given lip service only. We were constantly reminded of the other's shortcomings when the other person was not around to speak for his or herself. Talking behind the other's back was common, especially with the parents doing this - as if in some ways, the line between the parents and the children was never really established - as some would say this is pretty childish. We were taught to mistrust the other, and to this day, have received constant reminders of the pending bloodbath that will occur once they pass on, as we will be clawing, kicking, and scratching for every last inherited possession of theirs. Our actions and decisions were always questioned and doubted. So is it any wonder that none of us are close, that my younger brother can only experience a brother through his in law and not his real life brothers, that all of us have looked to something outside of our family to fill the void that our real life family presented? It might seem crazy to some that I post these writings so openly, but if not for that nobody in my family would have any idea who I am and what I think. This is the way I reach the family members that read this - and it is pretty sad that this is the only way I can - but something is better than nothing.
Although we are a "dysfunctional" family, that alone cannot provide an explanation for our distance. In my wife's family, the head of household was a chronic drinker prone to fits of violence, and the police were called out on a regular basis. The mother was constantly depressed and overwhelmed - but yet in spite of all this, there is a real sense of family there that is not present in our dysfunctional family. I am sure that it is clear to our daughter Sara that there is a difference, in that the family members on her side will make an effort to stay present in her life even when she is away, but in our family - out of sight, out of mind - once she says goodbye to them, she will never see or hear from them again, absent a holiday card or present. There just really is no sense of family with us as there is with my wife's side, and the differences are very clear.
From my point of view, I always wanted this to be different, but after years of trying to reach out to everyone, I finally realized I was going against a wall. You can't make people be close who just don't want to be. I realize that part of the blame lies within as well and it is not fair to be blaming everyone else. I am a part of this too, and yet it seems clearly beyond me. For whatever reason that I can never really know or understand, I will never really know just about anyone in my family. I am closer to my older brother and his wife, and can have more direct and genuine communication there than anywhere else. As for my remaining siblings, there is a hell of an act that requires a strong effort to maintain while I am present, but once I am gone, it is like I was never there to begin with.
There is a section on the role of the grandparents in the paper. The grandparents on our side have one ambition - and it is to get as far away from their grandchildren and travel the four corners of the Earth. They worked hard for what they have, it is their choice, and what they want. Their travels have come as first priority to the point of being away from the birth of some of their grandchildren. At one of the Bar Mitzvahs, I was put in a somewhat awkward position of having to explain to the other side of the family why they were not there for that either and I know technically they can turn all this around and blame circumstances and changes of plans, but the reality is - priorities are priorities, and travel has been number one for them, and how dare anyone question it. They waited a month to even see my daughter, even though they were two hours away, and the first visit in a month was a quick drop by on the way to a play. Compare and contrast this to one local friend of ours, where the mother came down from Seattle to stay with them for a long period of time for the birth of that child. But again - I can't criticize them - they do the best they can and offer what they can, unfortunately, they are so broken they have nothing to offer except for a re-count of their travels and the constant reminder of the estate they will leave behind. My father once questioned why some were not present at the 50th anniversary gathering, and my question in response was why would they want to be there - his answer with a grin was "dollars, lots of dollars". If that is all you have to offer someone, in my mind that is the definition of a tragedy. They lived in the same town as my older brother when he had his children, but made a conscious decision to be absent in any type of real participation there. I think if they were emotionally capable of being involved, they would have been - but it just was not there. I don't know if on one of their dying days there will be any regrets that they were not involved more, since they don't believe in life after death and really only live on in our minds. I must sadly conclude that as easy as it would be to criticize their actions, they have given us the best they did have to offer.
Which brings me to being thankful for what I do have - I am self-sufficient now, I am capable of providing for my own family, I work hard, exercise, have no real health problems to speak of, and I feel spiritually connected to the world around me. They put me through school, gave me the model of sticking together as a married couple that has motivated me to stick it out on my own, a lot of what I have I owe to my parents and I have never had to go hungry. I do have a debt to them in spite of the lack of any real family presence now. It is not all bad so to speak. I am not lying at the padded walls of a mental institution as I once expected my life outcome to be. Despite the grief in writing this, overall I would say I am somewhat happy and content with who I am and what I am - and I do owe this to them, so this is not a black and white situation. There are those that starve, are beaten and have no hope and I do not fall into that category - at least not now anyways.
All the same, this subject of loss and mourning has been with me my whole life. I have always longed for a family in the sense of the word described by the article, one where it is a life time commitment and all participate and contribute, where there is a real meaning to the word and sometimes I wish I was Mexican just so I could experience this. As a compromise, I just married one and the closest I can get is living it second hand. As losses go, it may be easier to live with then a loss of limb, loss of sight, or loss of ability to walk on two feet - but make no mistake, it is still a loss anyways and to have any hope that it will ever change is just deceiving. Although we will still be polite, I will never know my younger brother and the events of 30 years ago will haunt him forever - I may have some blame there, but this just will not change. He did make the effort to visit us a few times, but every visit seemed to be cursed with something going wrong time and time again, until it became clear that despite his good intentions, the darkness and anger toward the mean older brother of childhood years will be a permanent mark in his psyche. I just simply will never have a relationship of any kind with him. I wish him well, but that is just the way it is - too bad because we are a lot alike and have a lot to offer each other, but as I find with the entire family, any hope of a real relationship is about as dead as the cold grave stones resting at the cemetery here.
It is overall a time to mourn what I never had and never will have with my family, but just like the ghost of future present in Scrooge, it is also a warning to me that I have to do everything I can to avoid the Cats in the Cradle song and be there for the family I do have. I want to be there for my daughter in a way my parents could not be there for me. I want to be there for life, and God help me if I want to be traveling around the world when and if I am fortunate enough to be alive when she has her own children. I want my own small family to have the closeness and warmth that I never experienced for myself. With time, effort, prayer and a little help from some supernatural powers, just maybe I can make the change in this generation of the cursed family I come from.
posted by Zook at 6:33 AM
1 Comments:
Your younger brother may be helped to heal by your making eye contact, accepting reponsibility and culpability for whatever happened 30 yrs ago- expecting no thanks or forgivness from him and with no qualifiers from you. You will be a better man.
My family was distant/neglectful to completeley non participatory from child to adult hood as well. It's loneley. I'm glad to hear you are working to not have the cycle repeat within your own family. Thanks for bravely sharing raw emotion.
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