things I still don't understand, and can't forget
I was an only child. An only grandchild on one side of the family, and the first-born, only girl grandchild on the other side. And I nearly died from illness when I was two. I was, accordingly, spoiled. Good girl, nice kid, but spoiled.
***
I am 10. My parents have just announced their pending adoption of three second cousins I never knew I had. My mother and I are driving home from my piano lesson. “There’s this emptiness,” she said. “Part of our family isn’t here. I feel so incomplete.”
“But what about me? You’ve got me.”
“No. They’re not here, and they’re part of us now.”
***
A year later, it was clear that the new arrangement wasn’t working out. There were lots of reasons, and it was everyone’s fault. Mom wanted to interrupt the adoption, but Dad insisted that we not because it was clearly not God’s will. About once a year thereafter, the topic of interruption would come up and be squelched on religious grounds.
***
I am twelve or so, and all six of us are sitting around the breakfast table. “Your father and I were talking about killing ourselves“ she says. “It would just be so much easier. But we won’t, because it wouldn’t work.”
“It’s not God’s will,” Dad says. “And if it’s not God’s will, he won’t let you die. You could blow your own face off and still be alive because it’s not your time.”
The four of us kids sit there speechless, staring into our bacon.
***
Another couple of years pass. Mom and I are driving somewhere on a weekend. We are rarely in the car alone together, so I’m enjoying the one-on-one time. She looks over at me and asks “What would happen if I drove into that concrete piling over there?”
***
I haven’t thought about all this in years, but lately it’s been running through my head. And in the past few days it occurred to me that as all this was happening, I was becoming more and more depressed myself. My mother couldn’t image why and refused to let me find counseling, because if the family insurance paid for it then my grandmother would see it on the company insurance reports and think my mother was a bad mother.
I’m a little bitter about this lately.
I am 10. My parents have just announced their pending adoption of three second cousins I never knew I had. My mother and I are driving home from my piano lesson. “There’s this emptiness,” she said. “Part of our family isn’t here. I feel so incomplete.”
“But what about me? You’ve got me.”
“No. They’re not here, and they’re part of us now.”
A year later, it was clear that the new arrangement wasn’t working out. There were lots of reasons, and it was everyone’s fault. Mom wanted to interrupt the adoption, but Dad insisted that we not because it was clearly not God’s will. About once a year thereafter, the topic of interruption would come up and be squelched on religious grounds.
I am twelve or so, and all six of us are sitting around the breakfast table. “Your father and I were talking about killing ourselves“ she says. “It would just be so much easier. But we won’t, because it wouldn’t work.”
“It’s not God’s will,” Dad says. “And if it’s not God’s will, he won’t let you die. You could blow your own face off and still be alive because it’s not your time.”
The four of us kids sit there speechless, staring into our bacon.
Another couple of years pass. Mom and I are driving somewhere on a weekend. We are rarely in the car alone together, so I’m enjoying the one-on-one time. She looks over at me and asks “What would happen if I drove into that concrete piling over there?”
I haven’t thought about all this in years, but lately it’s been running through my head. And in the past few days it occurred to me that as all this was happening, I was becoming more and more depressed myself. My mother couldn’t image why and refused to let me find counseling, because if the family insurance paid for it then my grandmother would see it on the company insurance reports and think my mother was a bad mother.
I’m a little bitter about this lately.
posted by Lulu at 6:04 PM
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