Thursday, September 1, 2016

Family Ties


I couldn't tell you what year this photo was taken.  I'm thinking 1982? Maybe '83?  Look how much my sister and I love each other.  Just goes to show that seeing isn't always believing.

My sister and I were mortal enemies.  We fought hard.  Boy-fight type hard.  Fists and nails and using bad words that we didn't understand but we knew we weren't supposed to use hard.  Then again we were each other's most loyal protectors.  Once upon a time there was a boy that went to the same babysitter as Heather and I.  That was around the same time this picture was taken.  I don't remember his name but I know I didn't like him.  One day he decided to bite my sister.  Hard.  Hard enough to draw blood.  He bit the wrong person's big sister.  The next day I kicked him repeatedly until he fell to the ground.  Then I started jumping up and down on him while using some more of those bad words I wasn't supposed to use. I should probably feel guilty about it, but I don't.  That's my sister. If anyone is going to hurt her, it's damn well going to be me.

Family can be tricky.  You don't get to chose them.  From the day you are born you immediately become a branch on the old family tree-house of horrors. It's not just my family.  It's not just your family.  It's every family.  Every family has at least a few drops of crazy drifting around in the gene pool.  It's something you can't avoid.  Not even after you grow up and move away. Life will be going along smoothly until one day when you open you mouth and suddenly, inexplicably, you hear your mother's words.  Then shit gets real.

Don't get me wrong, I loved my mother with all my heart.  I loved her right up until that one day in my early 20's when someone said something glaringly obvious to me and I found myself replying, "Yeah. And if frogs had wings they wouldn't whomp their asses when they hopped."  W. T. F.  Thanks a lot, mom. You'll have to forgive her.  She grew up in rural West Virginia where she developed a tendency towards subtle racism and homespun turns of phrase.

Think you can avoid it because you were adopted?  Good luck with that one, buddy.  I have friends that were adopted and their circumstances are just as bleak when it comes to inheriting familial psychosis.  When you adopt a child, they become YOUR child.  I've said it before, but it bears repeating; Blood does not make families.  Love makes families.  So whether you were raised by your grandparents, a wonderful auntie, or complete strangers, you WILL inherit their crazy.

There is a silver lining, though.  You all have the same crazy.  That makes it seem not-so-crazy. You can be yourself with your family.  Up to a point, that is.  NO ONE wants to talk about your unnatural addiction to Barry Manilow records or that you name each of your toes.  They all know about it.  But it's like that night you came home in a squad car.  Everybody knows it happened.  We just don't talk about it.  Unless you're my mom's older sister, Fran.  Then you feel compelled to remind me about that thing that I did back when Reagan was in office that broke my mother's heart and how I should apologize forever to my saint of a mother.  I guess I just messed with the wrong girl's little sister.

In case that hasn't comforted you enough, the second silver lining is that we now have Valium. Valium hit the U.S. market in 1963.  I find it appropriate and comforting that Valium was available the same year that LBJ took over the presidency, Beatlemania swept across North America, and Coca-Cola introduced their first diet product called Tab (not in that order).  This was a country crying out for a crutch and, if there's anything pharmaceutical companies are good at, it's better living though chemistry.

Family is important,  Sometimes you may feel you need to be heavily medicated to deal with them, but deal with them you must.  My sister and I used to be sparring partners once upon a time, but now we care deeply for each other.  Those familial bonds are important.  They are your refuge, your haven.  Family is where you turn when the rest of the world just doesn't make sense. My mom was the youngest of 6 children.  When I was young I felt bad for her having to grow up in such a big family, but now I know just how lucky she was and how lucky I am to have inherited them.  Or maybe that's just the Valium.

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