Family Secrets

My grandmother was always a bit neurotic. As it turns out, she was in and out of mental hospitals when my dad was growing up. After she died, I found some letters she had written, and I couldn't get past one paragraph (she talked about how horrible and depressing her life was). She tended to be a bit melodramatic ("Nobody knows how I suffer by going to the beauty parlor every week," she'd complain), but it was a bit chilling to read what she'd written.

My mother has a habit of becoming terribly morbid before any event that could remotely result in her demise. If she's about to have even the most minor medical procedure, she reminds me of where her will is located, how to contact the engraver for the headstone, etc.

Several years ago, she had to have some surgery, so I took a day off work to take her to/from the hospital (my father was housebound, recovering from surgery himself). Just before she was called back to be prepped for surgery, she told me that my father had knocked up a girl when he was 16. The girl was sent off somewhere to have the baby, who was put up for adoption.

Of course, I was speechless. I quickly did the math and realized that the "baby" was the same age as my father-in-law (no chance it was him; at least, I sure hope not). My father died a few years later, so I never discussed it with him. I've never told my brother; in fact, my mother asked me not to, figuring he wouldn't take it well. My wife knows, but she's discreet and won't spill the beans

I'll never try to track down my half-sibling, but I'd love to know how he/she turned out.

 

Jerry Springer is calling.

 

One more secret KY, Grandma and Grandpa were racist.

Now, maybe the experience changed them, and it doesn't mean you didn't learn a ton from them, or are wrong to love them.

Given the time, and place they wee raised. it's not surprising, but what your described is pretty much the definition of racism.

Hey, I loved my Grandma, but by today's standards, she would certainly be defined as racist. She'd be over 100 years old if she were alive, so again, not surprising.

 

I can't remember the actual verse, but there's something in the Bible that I believe led many to think we were not supposed to marry outside of our own race. I believe that the Bible was referring to marrying within your own religion. That might be what KY is referring to when he says they were not racist but were raised to believe not to marry outside of your race.

 

No, YF, my grandparents weren't rascist. No matter what you say. I think I would know since, ya know, I'm their grandson and all. They didn't have any problems with people of a different race.

And thank you KG. That's what I was referring to.

 

There are also things in the bible that say lots of things that make no sense in current times.

Someone who threw bricks at black children because "it's the way they were raised" is still racist.

 

Wait, did I miss the part where KY's grandpappy threw bricks at the negroes?

 

No. I'm just saying that saying you act a certain way because it's the way you were raised 50 years earlier is not an excuse for how you treat people now.

 

Apparently one of my aunts got married to my uncle after he raped her and got her pregnant and it was made very clear to him by her family that he was going to marry her. They ended up married for something like 50 years (they both died about 10 years ago) and had three other kids.

Also, I've had three cousins die at age 20. Two were pretty innocuous stories, but one died under mysterious circumstances and no one in the family knows exactly what happened. She went to a graduation party and was found dead later that night.

My wife's family has a lot more of this sort of stuff. My father-in-law has five children with four different women and is on speaking terms with three of them. One cut off contact once he turned 18, and the other one my wife just found out about in the past few years — "Oh, by the way, your dad has another kid, in Germany. No one told you?" When he was in the Army in the '60s he got a German woman pregnant.

 

My dad is seeing his sister next' week for only the third time since his parents divorced in the mid 50s. It's been several years since they've seen one another at Thansgiving when he saw his mom for the first time in 50 years and never saw her again as she died a few years after that. My grandparents' divorce must have been bitter.

 

My great-aunt, who had all the charm of a loogie, it turned out had an affair in her 20s that resulted in her giving birth to twins. They made contact with her when she was 95, and it was the first they had been mentioned in the family since their birth. The twins had been adopted, in fact, one lived within a few miles of her birth mother her entire life. They were both delightful women; one coached a team to the Class B volleyball championship in 1980. My great-aunt died a couple years later. I don't know if anyone went to her funeral.

 

When I was a kid, my step-dad -- in a drunken rage -- beat my mom up. I remember calling and waking up my grandparents, telling my grandma what was going on. I had to repeat myself a time or two before she finally was coherent enough to understand what I was saying. They lived on the other side of town at the time, but got to my house in less than 5 minutes.

I remember taking my sisters, Jessica was just 3 and Kasey was almost a year old, down to my neighbors, who implored me to call the cops. After some convincing from Lynn and his wife, I finally did. I left Jessica and Kasey with them and went back up to the house. My step dad was walking out of the house, yelling at my grandpa who was trying to get him away from my mom. Just then, the cops sped by my house. Apparently one of them heard my step dad yelling, turned around and flew up our driveway. Knowing what was up, my step dad turned to me and yelled "Did you call the cops, you little fucker? So help me, I'll beat your ass if you did."

He started to hit me, but my grandpa -- who was 60-something years old and had had a couple of heart attacks -- grabbed him and threw him to the ground. The cops pounced on him, handcuffed him and put him in one of the cruisers. They went in the house to talk to my mom, who refused to press charges and cussed me out for calling the cops in the first place. Hell, she was already mad at me for calling my grandparents to come over.

My step dad spent the weekend in jail, was released on a Monday and was over the house that next weekend. He didn't apologize to me or my mom until a few years later when he realized how stupid -- not to mention violent -- he was when he was drunk. My mom forgave him pretty easily, but I held a grudge against him for a long time -- it wasn't the first time he hit my mom, but it was the last.

I had to forgive him, and I eventually did. I mean, the man has been in my life longer than my real dad and practically raised me when my dad wanted nothing to do with me for 10 years (that's another story for another time ...).