I wish someone would have told me - warned me - that things would change and not for the better. Perhaps I could have coped with the change or the loss of a place I had in life, if only I had just known what lay ahead. People define themselves by their connections to others; where they are born and when; are they first, second, third, etc. in the birth order. Who is talented in music, who can sing, who can draw or paint, or who is very very smart in science. Which one has a sweetness to them, which one is kind and friendly, which one is sharp, which one is mean, who has a short temper, which one doesn't care. You get the picture. It takes a long time to get to know your siblings, your parents, and everyone else in one's world. It takes a long time to figure out who you are, what you like, or don't like; and just when you think you have a handle on it (I'm skipping decades of experience here), something terrible happens -- your father dies and you have a great big hole inside that never goes away. That is what happened to me on November 17, 2010.
The story of my family begins in 1956 when my mother ran away for parts unknown. I was 5 years old, but I remember it like it was yesterday. Anyway, I never saw her again. My dad left soon after to work in southern California and I was left in the care of my grand-parents along with my sister and baby brother. About a year later, he came back to get us and took us to southern California to live with him and his new wife, Jan. It was a complete surprise to me - I had no warning - but, it was a wonderful surprise. I knew Jan and her three children when we lived in Texas, and liked her very much. We remained a family for a long time and I didn't realize that it had all fallen apart until it was really too late to do anything about it. That realization came after my dad died.
I call my mom, Jan, at least once a week to visit and catch up on what we've been doing all week. At first I still felt the connection with her after dad passed away; a bonding of the heart you might say. Then, she progressively sounded more and more distracted on the phone to the point that there was really no deep personal bond going on between us. She became more and more forgetful and not wanting to talk about the past at all. She couldn't remember past shared experiences and would say "I don't know or I don't remember" a great deal.
Today was another one of those "forgetful days" that ended in tears and frustration for me. Then, I suddenly realized that I don't have a childhood family anymore. It all ended with the death of my father. My brothers and sisters don't write or call or stay connected with me even though I send them birthday cards and Christmas cards each year and make a point to see them when I visit down there.
It's heartbreaking, gut wrenching, sad.
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