A Month of Reflection: Day One
This was an Instagram tradition of mine, but I am thinking I will challenge myself this year to creating here instead.
It was either 2019 or 2020 that I started my little November tradition, a month of reflecting. It was kind of my throwback month. November is by far my favorite month. Writing this I cannot think of a better reason why than because Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. Not for the…well history of it, but the potential behind it.
A day of pure gratitude. Unrelenting thanks and kindness. With a wonderful meal surrounded by family! My nostalgia for the big Thanksgiving my Nana and Papa used to throw is almost crippling lately. I think it’s my newfound community, it is making me miss that closeness. See, most of those who came to my grandparent’s weren’t family, but friends. I have a particularly small family. Like two aunts, two cousins, an uncle. Full stop. Then me, my brother, my sister, and our parents. That is the entire shebang. There’s some distant family members that we see very rarely, and I have a whole new family after finding my Dad’s birth family; plus my in laws!
You know what, let’s just go ahead and reflect on family for the day shall we?
It may be small, my family, but simple it is not. There are secrets, feuds, betrayals. We love and we hate like any family. It all sounds much more dramatic than it is, and as I've gotten older I have realized my family really isn’t all that crazy. There are some wild families in this world. In beautiful and also painful ways, that’s the duality I fear.
The two biggest scandals would both be courtesy my mother’s family, the St. Louis’, COME ON DOWN!
There’s the estranged and strange uncle or Grandma’s evil twin. Let’s start with the evil, the Halloween spirit is still about.
So my maternal grandmother, the original, Elizabeth Kelsey, was born with a twin, Jane…something. This is how little I know, I saw the woman I think twice that I can remember, and I don’t think we ever formally met. The schism procured before I was born. Apparently great aunt Jane had said some unfavorable things about my abusive, alcoholic grandfather. How dare she, am I right!? Well, something to know about the St. Louis’ is that they are a proud bunch. They are a “never back down from what you said” kind of crew. So, ultimately the story is that led to the demise of their relationship.
That’s it. That’s my grandma’s “evil” twin.
Then there’s my mother’s brother, R.I.P., whom I truly met once, at Grandma’s funeral. I thought it was my grandfather back from the dead at first. When my mom told me who it was…I was shocked. I had heard his name so little, there was so much behind it, yet we were never really told the story. Just that “He was a bad man, a bad father, and he lied and stole”.
When my grandmother died I remember my mom and her sister crying over her will. They could see the clause where my grandparents had decided to write their son out of their will. Essentially cutting him off officially. I remember feeling a curious pain with this information. Like, here was my mom and aunt feeling this emotion over the man, yet they didn’t feel the need to reach out and connect. I am not saying this wasn’t the right decision, I am saying it made me want to know so much more.
Unfortunately all I have of my uncle is those snapshots. Quick things I learned about him through my life.
My mom watched him and my grandfather fight a lot, physically. Verbally too, but I believe the physical was the worst of it. It was really just my mom and him at home at the time. My aunt is fourteen years my mom’s senior. So when he was old enough to fight back, she was moved out and had started her family. I am not sure anyone really understands how bad they fought. I am not sure my mom sees how bad it was that she had to hear it.
My earliest memory of my uncle actually isn’t of him. It was of his oldest children. There are three of them, I will just call them N, T, and L. I said earlier my aunt is much older than my mom and started her family early, well my cousin is fourteen years older than me. I have cousins from my uncle too, they are closer to my other cousins age than mine. Well, these ones are.
We weren’t close I wouldn’t say. I think my mom felt a duty to try and help them, by the time I came into the world my uncle had split from this family and was on family number two or three. N had children of her own in the memories I remember. I believe they were my age at the time so maybe 6 or 7ish. Really it’s just one memory. Again, just a snapshot really. Like literally, I have one picture with L beside me at N’s son’s birthday I believe. That day we also got a shot of the whole family. I remember looking at that as a kid thinking, wow I love my family.
We didn’t really talk to them after that party and I never knew why. A few years later my mom got a phone call from our neighbor. She was driving passed the mall and had just seen a woman jump of the 690 bridge into traffic. She was hysterical. I didn’t know this was happening at the time, my mom took the call in her room. Later though, Mom came to talk to Michael and I because we were old enough. A bit after the call she got another one from N I believe and she went to the hospital. L had been the person who attempted to take their own life. Somehow they had survived, but this trauma was just too much for my family to get over. L, N, & T needed to heal and grow on their own, without the adults who hadn’t been able to save them. I don’t blame anyone, I am just thinking in the moment, maybe that’s how they felt. It’s probably how I would have felt.
So that was the end of those cousins for me.
A couple years after that while we were sitting in church my mother pointed out two kids who attended church school with us and let my brother and I know they were our cousins. There was some insane story about my uncle and a woman with a plate in her head that he took advantage of. He really was not a great guy, but neither was my grandpa. We never introduced ourselves to those kids, and we didn’t know if they knew that we were family. How do you tell that to someone anyways? Especially when your uncle was basically abusing their mother at some point.
It was radio silence then, until I got to see him at that funeral.
The spitting image of my grandfather. It’s funny how that happens, some people grow to look just like their parents.
So that’s it, that’s all the big family drama of my beautiful and complex tiny family. I really do love them more than anything. They are loud, have no musical talent, are aggressive at trivia and the most sarcastic mother fuckers you will ever come across. They are mess and imperfect just like me.
~~~Thank you so much for being here and supporting me by allowing me this space to express my thoughts and share my life. If you have a minute please consider checking out the links below. One is to help a family of 7 escape the genocide in Gaza, the other is a one click email like to send emails in support of the Palestinians. Thank you so much.