RE: Stuff You'd Know About
*hugs Quin*
Ehhh...this is still shit that matters. Why? Because stuff like this can still linger in the brain and affect you in ways. So, that right there means it matters in some form or fashion. I can relate to this whole deal too. My grandfather--dad's side--was an asshole when he was still alive. I never knew my grandmother. She died before I was born and he remarried before I was born. So, I grew up with a step-grandmother. She wasn't much better than my grandfather either. There's a bit more to how all of that ties in with my family. It's a bit odd actually, but that isn't really my point. My point is my grandfather. He was a fucking dick to my dad. My dad is a twin. He has an older brother and then his twin. His twin is just a few minutes younger than him and was born with CP (nothing overly major as he was able to fully integrate in school and all that nonsense, but it was enough that he still needed assistance while growing up). As such, my dad was treated like a classic 'middle child'. What's more, my grandfather really only had wanted ONE kid. So, my dad and his twin were actually an accident. My uncle (dad's twin) was kind of oblivious to this fact, but dad knew it while growing up. Regardless, my dad pined for his dad's affection and acceptance, more or less taking the bullshit and trying to look past it. The treatment was passed on once my dad got married and had me and my sister. I was oblivious to the treatment at first, confused when my cousins would say things about it in a teasing fashion. But there was eventually an incident that occurred that opened my eyes and I never looked back after that. I was around 7, maybe 8. And I told my parents that I no longer trusted my dad's parents and wanted nothing to do with them. My dad was saddened and I withdrew entirely from them (ie, my dad's parents). My sister continued on her merry way with them as did my father. My mom had always been indifferent. Then, when I was an adult and my grandfather was dying, I traveled to see him one last time because my dad asked me to do so. My grandfather made a startling statement when the nurse at the hospital said he was lucky to have so many family members around him who loved him. His comment went something like, "No I'm not. There's at least one who doesn't." There were mutters and mumbles of disagreement from everyone there, but I just sat there feeling VERY indifferent about it all. I was pretty sure he meant me and all I thought was, "Good, maybe now he finally gets it. 'Bout fucking time." Maybe that was cold of me to think? But fuck, he treated my dad like shit and I just sat by and let my dad take it because my dad wanted to. Who was I to stand in their way? If he wanted that kind of dynamic to continue, that was his choice to make. Not mine. He knew VERY well where I stood on the whole damned thing AND why. All I cared about was that I had my distance and, then, in the end, I oddly got a piece of closure. I didn't expect the closure. But it was cool to have gotten it. Though, I'll be honest, if I hadn't gotten it, I wouldn't have felt badly about not having received it. Really, it was just kind of a bonus. But anyway, I do relate. Or, I feel like I do after having read everything you wrote. : )