I was a "Mistake," according to my mother. Now, my relationship and experience with my mom is a story in and of itself, and honestly... I could write a novel here about that. But I'm not going to. Let's just say my mom was disconnected by the time I was born, old enough to be my grandmother, and about as unplugged as a parent could get. It was easier to micromanage and control everything to a damaging degree, rather than create experiences that may have given me a chance and coming out on the other side with less 'issues.' Yes, of course I have issues, and in a way it was my mom's only legacy.
How is it that I could know little of nothing, if anything, about anyone in my family tree? Well, that's easy--when you don't answer questions, share nothing, and ensure that not a single photo, letter, information, etc. gets passed down to you... well, you can't ask a dead person questions. Point blank, not pretty, but absolute truth just the same.
Everything from health/medical information was shared primarily with ONE of the 6 children, and I wasn't the one who got the information. My eldest sister was my mother's confidant, her go-to gal, and there was an almost too-close relationship between my mom and my oldest sister (old enough to be my mom). I spent my entire life on the outside, looking in, and it was that way until my mom passed away (over 20 years ago now).
One sister and I shared a dad, and my other siblings share a father form my mom's 1st and only marriage. Yep, my other sister and I were illegitimate. I could really care less about that, to tell you the truth. My dad was out of the picture when I was 18 months old, and my mother really never spoke of him or his family except for some really scary things, very dark and scary things. Now, it shouldn't surprise anyone that if you scare a kid like that, they're most likely not ever going to ask too many questions. This was the case with me.
The siblings who had a different dad hate me. Just the truth. I was even told that one reason they despised me was that, because we were very poor, they often didn't get as much milk (the example used by one brother and sister) because when it came down to the wire... "The baby" (me) needed it more than they did. I can't speak for what happened when I was a baby. I can't apologize for something that I didn't do on purpose. Yet that resentment carried right into adulthood for my 3 brothers and one sister. BTW, I don't really think of them as brothers and sisters because they've not treated me as such throughout my life. What memories I have of life with them.. isn't good.
I was born very late, with my mom being in her early 40's when she had me. All my siblings (but for one) was grown and gone and with kids of their own, so I pretty much grew up like an only child from about age 10.. when one of my sisters married and moved out (she was 16). We lived in a 3 bedroom house that was eventually condemned, and my mother (a hoarder) used all 3 bedrooms as her hoarding rooms. My sister, the one I share a dad with, had her own room, lots of 'stuff,' decorated walls, record player, records, clothes, and a bike. I didn't have enough toys to even have a toy box, so even in this respect I would find myself living an entirely different life than my sister... and everyone else, actually.
My mom was absent, indifferent, cold most of the time...and even cruel. Skipping over more details than will fit here, I will say that my childhood was very, very odd, and the damage done has proven to be long-lasting. Still, I spent my life longing for a family, a REAL family. Now, coming from a family with 3 brothers and 2 sisters you would think that a strange thing for me to say. Aunts, uncles, cousins... really had nothing to do with me, but for one cousin who, I guess, simply took pity on me. I felt the hostility from them all growing up and didn't understand any of it at all. I felt it, saw it, heard it, and experienced that hostility until we moved away from California. We moved to Colorado because my oldest brother wanted my mom to move there so she could babysit while he and my SIL could work. I was in 8th grade when we moved, and my life didn't get better at all.
Longing for a real family... even to this day....
I would eventually move away from the state of Colorado. My kids and I, to make a long story short as possible, ended up here in the south along the Gulf Coast, where we settled into that strange place (strange to us because we weren't from there) and would end up calling the south "Home." It's the only place that ever felt like home to me. I'm still in the south, but a little further north by a few short hours. But back to "Family"....
When my mom passed, naturally my eldest sister got everything. Very important items my mom was holding for me until I could send for them were divided amongst my brothers and sisters and nephews... or just tossed out as garbage. They did this QUICKLY after my mother died, the day they found out, using the excuse that they were sure that since she was on disability, got a veteran's widow pension, and on Medicare, etc... that the 'government' was going to come in and take her stuff. Yes, LUDICROUS, but that's the excuse they used. And when I arrived for her funeral I wasn't even allowed to so much as have a photo of hers. My eldest sister 'allowed' me to take ONE photo to have it photocopied. My mom had boxes and boxes of photos, btw.
Few actually had anything to say to me at the funeral, or after. It was the same shit, different day.. only worse. A few years later I'd tried once again to make some kind of connection with them, but it ended in a total disaster. I finally came to my senses and realized that I was the only one putting in any effort and that it just simply wasn't worth it. I basically told my oldest brother and his bitchy wife to piss off. And yes, it felt great and was LONG overdue.
In the present....
I know pretty much nothing of my family history, my family tree. My last living grandparent died when I was 2 weeks old, and everyone else was so much older than me that no one really had anything to do with me. My mom wasn't really forthcoming with names, histories, etc., though she did incorporate some names and such in a few fun stories she would tell from time to time. But as a little child I really had no idea if she were making the stuff up/telling fairytales, or if the information was actually true. And after my mom's death... the information about grandparents and such were simply not given to me, even if I asked. Photos, etc.... all given to my sister, who claimed some neighbor stole them, were lost. My brothers, etc. chose badly when they decided to give my sister everything. One person said they thought my sister pawned or sold the framed antique photos of grandparents etc for money. Sadly, it sounds exactly like something she would do.
The cruelty extends into adulthood....
When one of my brothers passed away a few years ago I was told about this AFTER the funeral had taken place, and... I was told on Facebook by a distant cousin. She apparently looked for me on Facebook with ONE purpose in mind, and that was to send me a message that read.. "B**** passed away last week. Thought you'd like to know." I asked "How/why?" which lead to her replaying in the same short, blunt fashion. She then disappeared and didn't say a word ever again. I'd written back a couple of times.. with no response. I'd written my nephew as well, and have been ignored. And this nephew I grew up with and was very close to most of our lives. He's only 2 1/2 years younger than I am.
Cruelty was their favorite weapon, and continues to be so.
The family tree...
As someone who feels completely disconnected from 'family' or blood ties, history... it only stands to reason that I would, eventually, WANT to know something about my own family history. SOMETHING. ANYTHING. So when I decided to look into www.ancestry.com I felt like I was taking a step in the right direction. Maybe this site could help me put the broken pieces together in such a way that I would at least see my connection within the bloodline.
What I've done...
I created an account at www.ancestry.com over a year ago, but since I wasn't really willing to invest any money into getting a full account, I've only spent the smallest bit of time there. But that changed for me about a week ago when I saw a commercial online for Ancestry and a DNA test they offered that shows where your bloodline is from, at least in percentages. A lot of folks have jumped on board for this. Now, one cool thing about the DNA test and having a real account (which I don't yet) is that you can set your family tree to allow links between matches for DNA, region, etc. It's a lot more complicated than that, and they have a video that explains it all, but it's a really neat tool and a good place to start. But what about for someone like me?....
DNA results may be the only thing I really get out of this, and that's okay. It's something, isn't it? It would be nice to know for sure what ethnicities are involved in my family tree, even if I don't have any family history to see how the pieces fit. I sent my kit off today and, from what I understand, it will take about a week for the results to get uploaded online. Knowing it's not going to give me complete picture of my family tree... I'm still okay, and I'm fairly patient where that's concerned.
So what's my freaking point here?
My point is this: If you have information about family history (names, places, etc) please share them with your kids. Don't leave them in the dark to spend the rest of their lives wondering who they really are (history wise), where they're from, what their history is, etc. It's really not a good or easy thing to live with when you have no idea about those things. Don't do that to your kids, seriously.
My desire to know more about my family history/ancestry runs deeper than the hurt from the disconnection from my actual 'family members.' I rarely use the word 'family' when speaking about them. They're blood relatives to me, but nothing more.
I have to wonder if I'm beating my head against the wall trying to piece together a family tree I know nothing about. Names, birth dates, etc. are required to even do searches or make connections. What little information I have really just stops at my mom, and my dad I have only a name and birth date. It's really like hitting a brick wall. But is it worth it, all of this effort? I don't know.
I really just don't know. The one thing I DO know is that I'm left with the question: Will I ever fully understand myself in connection to history and ancestry?
*shrugs*
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