We Don’t Pick Our Families But Thankfully We DO Pick Our Friends!

I have been reluctant to write this until now, It happened Saturday, May 4^th at my cousin Danielle’s baby shower. It is only after talking to Susan O that I can finally put this down in words. It would have been too hard, too devastating, crushing and traumatizing to my psyche.

Saturday, sitting next to an older cousin on dad’s side Phyllis who is around my dad’s age we were discussing family. Diane had brought up my Uncle and Aunt for some reason. Then she was talking about the boys and Phyllis kept saying “I didn’t know any of this. I am getting an education.” I jumped into the conversation to add validity to what Diane was saying because a lot of it sounds so crazy. I mean my aunt peed on my Godmother who was a young teen because she laughed when baby Johnny peed on Aunt Cathy as she was changing her diaper. She was a kid and it probably seemed very funny. What kind of adult acts like that? Oh I know, my Aunt. So disgusting. 

As we talked more about the deviants that are my two cousins and my uncle and his many girlfriends Phyllis says, “As I am getting older, I am remembering things. Do you want to know where the boys and your uncle learned that behavior? Probably from my Uncle Johnny. He was disgusting. A pervert.” So I said, “yes, probably. I can tell you that I spent many years in therapy over your uncle Johnny. She folded her arms, looked at me in a disgusted, you stupid idiot with downcast but looking up at me eyes and said with distaste in her mouth, “You let him get to you? You let him touch you? I told him to go fuck himself.”

I heard a record scratch and I had to stop myself from standing up to smack her across her face. I never wanted to smack someone across their face in my whole life. I stopped myself because I am at a baby shower and this woman is 80. She is dumb and God help her doesn’t know how wrong she is.

Skye was sitting next to me and I felt her stop drawing. She told me later in the car that she looked her dead in the face. 

Who lets someone touch them? Who at 6 would ever say, “fuck yourself grandpa!” What little girl feels like she has control over what is happening to her? If I could go back in time, maybe I would be able to yell, scream, shout, tell him to stop or hey why not go fuck yourself but there was not way I could have. I imagine I was frozen with fear. Thankfully I do not remember the first time. 

I really had to leave. I had to get out and we eventually left with me feeling horrible. My inner little girl felt hurt, alone, violated and devastated that this person knew what was happening at that house but let three little girls move in after losing their mother. 

When I talked about it with Skye in the car, I didn’t feel any better. I was highway driving in the rain and really just wanted to get him. The feeling was sitting with me and my 19 year old child didn’t really have the words that my soul needed to fight past the feeling I was having. I remember telling her that I was devastated that this adult did nothing. That all these years later I still deal with what happened to me. It changed me as a person, as a parent, as a woman and my anger over her saying what she said but mostly not saying anything as an adult just was eating away at me because when Anthony’s daughter was born, I called April, his wife and said, “ I know you don’t know me but I am Anthony’s cousin and I want you to know what happened to me as a little girl with those people you just married into.   As a responsible person who was devastated by the things that were done to me, I felt an obligation to make sure that Anthony’s daughter didn’t grow up the same way. I told April not not let her around that family without being there. 

My conversation with Phyllis sat with it day and night, eating away at my insides. Making me feel horrible, dirty and stupid. I told Diane that night and she said, “She’s old. She doesn’t always say the right things.” I said it to Gabrielle because if anyone else could relate, it would be her. She said, “I’m sorry, but you have to let that conversation go and this is why I don’t talk to family.” Joe would never say the things I needed to hear and he could make it worse with, “that was a long time ago.” Clarissa said, “that is horrible but maybe at least you have closure.” Not sure what could have given me closure in this case but that was the last thing I had. 

I tried to call Teresa but she was unavailable. I text Susan on my way home and she called back in 5 minutes. We small talked for a moment and when I got home I stepped out of the car and walked around not wanting to go inside. We haven’t talked in a while and I wanted to touch base. When she asked me how I was, I let it all out. She listened, she was angry for me. She couldn’t believe someone could be so harsh and insensitive. She told me I have every right to be angry and upset and “how dare she pick at your scabs. How dare she victim shame you. If I were there I would have held her down for you to smack and then helped you. She is a horrible person to have said those things to you. You were a child! There was more but these are the words that healed my inter child. I needed someone to say, you were not the cause of the horrible things that happened. She said, “I know, you know that none of that was your fault and there was nothing you could have done to change it. I know you know that her words aren’t right to have been said to you but I am going to tell you that she is a horrible, disgusting person and no one should ever say those things. 

I thanked her telling her that she said all the things I needed to hear and that I felt so much lighter. 

We discussed what was happening with her and I hoped that I said all the things she needed to hear. She said I did but I always worry that I am not sensitive enough. We thanked each other through text later and said I love you. I hope she truly knows how much I love her. When I look for someone rational to talk to, she has always been at the top of my list. 

Time to go to work.