Bird droppings

Seeing my blood relatives again did something to me...

In the back of my mind over the past 4 years, I've held onto this idea that maybe some day I'll be able to welcomed back into my family. That ignores the question of whether or not I'd really want such a thing or whether it's *really* possible. But that's not important. What's important is what I've believed in the back of my head.

I believed, most especially, that I'd have a relationship with my mother and sister again, as well as with my little cousins and my niece that I used to have so much fun with.

But that was 4 years ago.

When I saw them at my mother's funeral, they've all grown up. My oldest cousin was maybe 14 when I last saw her. She's now basically 18 years old, an adult woman. My other cousins. The ones I used to play with and hang out with. The ones that I got along with so well. My cousin Robbie that looked up to me. They've all grown up.

When my blood relatives disowned me and erased me from the family, they didn't just take away my relationship with them. They also took away TIME. TIME that I'll never get back. Those little children and their smiling faces are dead now, a thing of the past. In their place are the teenagers and adults that they've become. It doesn't matter if they all somehow accepted me back into the family tomorrow. What I had has been lost to time.

It hurts and depresses me to realize this, because it hits home the fact that my subconscious fantasy will never take place. I can never get them all back. I can never have my little cousins back. Even my niece has grown up so much. She's a tiny little person now, instead of the little tiny baby whose diaper I helped change a few times. And the nephew that I only met twice in his entire life is a little boy now. I've missed out on the chance to be a part of their childhood, and I continue to miss out on that. I've missed a huge part of their growing up, all of them.

And perhaps one of the most painful facts of all is that I can never have my mother back now, and as much as I have come to terms with what happened between us, I haven't come to terms with the fact that nothing can ever change between us. That there never will come a day when we will be loving family again. She's gone. She's dead. It's over.

All I have is the future. All I have is looking forward now. My blood relatives are gone. At the funeral, I reconnected with a few of them, and I'll learn to relate to those family members again. But the ones that I was closest to are gone. And I'm going to have to take comfort in the family that I have: The blood relatives that still accept me, and the dear and close friends that hold me now out here in California.

I still feel like I have so much to mourn, and it feels like I'll continue mourning this for years to come.

They took away my chance to be an aunt, a cousin, a daughter, and a sister.

It's hard not to hate them.

My father goes in for open heart surgery to do (at least) a triple bypass tomorrow morning. Please keep him in your prayers, thoughts, etc.

The gathering of people.
What to do?
What to say?
Become the server.
Provide the entertainent
Board games, yo-yos, movies, music, karaoke.
Acting the fool, dancing around.
Can't talk...
I become invisible, hiding in the light.
Playing the role.
With confusion and fear surrounding me...
I perform for the crowd, giving them the show I think they want.
I feel alone... surrounded by my family and friends.

Again...
With the same people, it is the same patterns.
But now, the reasons differ.
We don't know what to say to each other.
Behind veils of uncertainty we do not understand one another.
They don't know why I've changed.
I don't know how they feel.
Neither of us know what to say.
In the crowd.
People stand around me.
Who can open up to me? Who shows their love to me? Who relates to me?
The new friend I just met.
The mother-in-law whose daughter I am leaving.
The people that have the least reason to love me.
To everyone else, I am invisible.
And I become the server.
The entertainer.
And the butt of their jokes.

My dream is to live...
But it's so hard to live in my old life.
It takes effort
It will take work.
Rebuild the bridges that have been damaged.

But in the crowd
To be invisible
It hurts.

Note, this entry was originally published on my old blog back in 2004. I have ported it here for completion.

I'm not one for pointing out positive things very often. Dunno why. But since most of my family and friends are Christians, I thought I'd put this note here for them:

Today, my father-in-law set up a visit to nursing home. He got his entire nuclear family, Kelly and I, and a few others to come and "minister" to the nursing home people. This entailed singing Christmas Carols, playing music, and reading bible stories to the elderly patrons of the home.

This is the sort of thing that I wish was more prevalent in Christianity in general. THIS is the good that Christianity needs to find. Not legislating against the ability of people to marry their loved ones, but going out there and making someone's day better. I pray to the Goddess that someday Christians realize that this is more in concert with their deity's New Testament actions than the other stuff they do.