Famiglia

While heading down the ramp to use the esplanade bike/pedestrian bridge that runs along the Steele Bridge you make a turn where someone has written, "Call your deadbeat dad he still loves you." My initial reaction to that would be Wow, that's cool, if only I did or didn't feel that applies to me. I could feel that it was my dad who wrote it, but I don't believe it's true. But the statement means something to me anyway.

It sort of makes me not want to ride that way anymore if I have to see that every time. Whoever wrote that, way to shove my personal problems in my face!

There are those people out there who cannot even comprehend how someone could not talk to their parents when given the choice. There are many of them... "But they're your parents..."

And I wish I could really identify with how you feel about the parent-child relationship, Mr. or Ms. Probably-Not-From-A-Broken-Home. I wish it could be as simple as just phoning my mother or father up and saying "Let's forgive and forget." But I am the creation of my parents! We are each other's blood. And I am too proud to cave, I suppose.

I do not know if my sister really even thinks about either of our parents much. We do not really talk about them and if we do it is poking fun or negative venting about them. When asked by people why we do not speak to them our response ranges from shrugging and saying, "They're weird" to quick name-calling. In most cases regardless of what is said, the subject is usually changed as soon as possible!

It feels so weird sometimes knowing that they are leading lives I do not know about and vice versa. But they have done things I just cannot agree with and I do not want to subject myself to their unhealthy mentalities and inappropriate behavior. I need parents I can bring any problem to, whether it is something like having a problem with drugs or being pregnant, or financial, or something personal I would need advice on. I do not feel like either of my parents are... normal. But I probably feel this way because both of them have mostly hidden themselves from me, and treated me like a child for far too long.

That reminds me of my maternal grandfather's funeral. The way people spoke of him made it sound like he was such a good man and I always knew that generally he was and that he took care of his family, but for some reason neither my sister or me became very close with him (because we're too much like our dad for him?) and so I learned a lot of things for the first time when people shared memories of their life with him at his funeral.

I have tried to make things with family as smooth as I can - those that I talk to, at least. When someone says something that I do not agree with or find offensive I try to let them know right away in a mature, direct manner, though sometimes I simply feel the need to throw out, "F*** you, ah? Don't talk to me like that!"





Thank goodness for art and music... Keeping me going.