reflecting life's journey
I been watching reruns of this show called The Waltons. Its based on this family who resided in the hills of the blue ridge mountains during the Great Depression.
There were many things this family did or went thru that reminded me of the family I grew up in, We had almost the same size family, tho I think us girls outnumbered the boys, unlike The Waltons, still seven sibs, mom and dad,,, no grandparents tho.
The show touches me at times, I weep at the end.
My family was different in such a way that we were not as close nor caring of each other as the actors in the show.
I, for one, was abused by the brothers. I don't know why they chose to do what they did to me, why they hated me so. I never really felt like I belonged in this family, a nagging feeling that I never got over even as an adult in my 60s.
I wondered if I was adopted and never told, or perhaps my mother had an affair with another man and I am proof of it, specially when my mother broke down after my asking a question she really didnt want to answer,, telling me “MY” grandmother was a full blood Ojibwe woman. In reflection, thinking about things she spoke of in the past**, things she said directed at ME not my siblings, I think that perhaps she did have an affair,,,,, maybe this is why I felt like I never fit in, never belonged to this family, maybe this is why I was abused by the brothers, and now how I am ignored by most of the sibs,,, they never call, never wish to see how I am doing, seemingly very uncaring about me all together, this became more apparent after the parents passed.
As a result of this, and being married to three different men whom all abused me also, I became a very independent person who relies on self and self alone.
I suspect also, that I will never have milestone anniversaries, I will never grow old together with anyone, I will indeed die alone with no one at my side to assue me all will be well.. That makes me sad as I deserve to have someone, who loves me, and me alone.
I do not know if there is anything I can do about this, I would love to know who I really am someday and find a place, at last where I really truly belong and feel loved and welcome unconditionally.
**” You sure can tell there is an Indian in the woodshed with that one. You are getting brown as an Indian. I recall going with my aunt to visit the nearby reservation when I was a child. Your grandmother was a full-blood objiwe Indian.
*strangers asking me what tribe I belong to more than a few times.
I go to events like pow wows, language camps and the like, and feel welcome and like I fit in there. Met my friend's uncle, who spoke the language to me when meeting me, and I responded to him correctly in English,,, how did I know what he said when I had just begun going to language camp and really knew only a few words so far?? Blood memory???
