I need to talk, but I have no one to talk to. So instead of sitting pent up and pretending to work when my mind won’t let me, I’ll talk to strangers. Lucky you.
A brief summary of the plot so far: my dad’s dad (Norman - I don’t consider him my grandfather) walked out on him and grandma when he was 4. Said he was going to California to earn money and would write when he got there to send for them. He never wrote – end of story. The epilogue may be full of a second-guessing grandmother who doesn’t stand up for herself, a dad with anger-management issues and his daughter who gets all of this stupid emotional shit passed on to her, but at least the story is done.
But the book was not content to be finished and forgotten.
A few years ago my sister tracked down Norman and his “new” family. It turns out that he had moved to Arizona, started a family, and had only died just a few months before my sister found them. They don’t know about us and no one tells my dad or grandma about the discovery. The typewriter slows and the story is done once again.
Then my mother decides to contact the new family. She says she just wants to know to get their “medical history” but we all know she’s just stirring shit up. She talks to Norman’s granddaughter, and we all get to hear about how great he was and he was such a nice guy and every summer the family would go on vacation to Minnesota(!) and so on.
Well, how very nice for you. That bastard leaves my family in dysfunctional disarray, and you get tell me about all of your fond memories of him. Great, just fucking great.
My family is all excited to meet their new “relatives” and all I can think about is how the fuck do you guys get to grow up happy with “grandpa”, while I get to deal with the fucked-up family that he caused? Thanks for the consolation prize… Not only do I get to hear all about them, but I get to see them too since I’m the only one who can figure out how make the pictures small enough to email (Norman’s the grouchy bastard on the right). I hate having to look at photos of people that oddly resemble my dad.
But there’s another chapter: I guess Norman was an asshole to his new family too. Huh. That oddly makes me feel better, but now I feel horrible that I feel happy that someone else had a fucked-up family too.
I hate all of this shit. I was more comfortable when my family tree had a branch missing and no one cared. Yea, my dad had a dad, but he’s probably dead, would you like some tea? It was over and done with. The book was written, closed, and put up on the shelf. But now it’s sitting open on the table like a wound and everyone but me is excited to read it.
Sorry for the rant, but thanks for letting me vent – I just needed to get this shit out… or at least a little sedated.