I am happy to be off this weekend. I am still in the purging mode at my house touching everything I own to make sure I still want to own it. I came across the family pictures of mostly dead people now some I know and some I don't. Because I lived in the same city as my Aunt and she was the last surviving sibling on my mother's side I got all the pictures.
In my constant desire for order when I got the pictures originally I separated them by aunts and uncles and thought that I would put them together and send them off to the kids. Now with time I don't really know where the kids are or whether anyone would care at this point.
I also had one file for my grandmother. I have been writing my story and her character is pretty prominent and a character she was. By necessity she was one of the most manipulative people you would ever encounter. Her husband was killed in a sawmill accident when she was 30 leaving her alone with nine kids to support.
Under the circumstances my grandmother became the most resourceful person you can imagine. She never remarried because she said "I don't want another man disciplining my children." She was totally immersed in the the Pentecost even though she was raised Baptist. She never joined the church because they wanted her to be re-baptized and she that the first baptism was in the name of the same Jesus so she refused. Even though the church gave her a piece of land and the materials to build her own house and she did of course.
My grandmother built a very thick wall of denial that rarely was penetrated. She had her own version of everything. She was very opinionated about a lot of things and didn't readily accept new people in her inner circle. She kept most people in that second ring in case she needed something from them. She especially like strangers and they loved her because they were the easiest to maneuver and she hadn't exhausted them the way she did her family.
When my mother was alive grandmother would plan her own birthday party and invite all kinds of people. She had this one lady make her a fancy decorated cake every year as a gift. At my grandmothers funeral the same woman came up to me and said "your grandmother would ask me to do things that even my own mother wouldn't ask me to do." I knew what she meant.
Once my grandmother invited everyone to her party she would call my mother and say "I got 20 people coming for a party at my house tomorrow." knowing my mother would feel like she needed to make that work. I felt for my parents because the wants of my grandmother dominated our household but no one stood up to her. If you said anything she would cry and pout and then quote the Bible about disrespecting your elders. My mother was the youngest and took most of the heat.
I really couldn't understand why she got away with it. Every year we took a trip to visit my aunt in Michigan and up until the last minute she would say she wasn't going. Everyone would beg her to go but she would refuse then at midnight the night before she would call and say she was going. Sometimes when we got to the house at 10 she would still be in bed not packed.
I can see my dad patiently sitting in the car or on my grandmothers porch while my mother helped her pack. This was a regular routine. She did this with her other son in law the day before she was to fly to my wedding and he left her. She manage to get a plane ticket and a neighbor to take her to the airport and got there before my aunt and uncle did.
She loved me almost as much as she loved my mother and after my mothers death and my dad remarried our visits were limited. My dad wouldn't have anything to do with my mother's family after that. Once my uncle stopped by and my dad was cleaning the gutters he never even came down from the ladder. He loved my mother more than life and I think he only tolerated her family for her sake. Once she was gone he was done. I don't think there was malice but he had moved on.
Looking at the pictures of my grandmother mostly on her birthday or Mothers Day always wearing a corsage and usually a hat I see a pretty happy person living a life that only existed in her mind. My mothers death did break denial for a few years. She cried forever until she said God ask her to stop.
When she was afraid or sad she wrote scriptures on random pieces of paper. I have dozens of those writings that I saved. Her faith was unbelievable and kept her going until the end. She died at 85 in 1984 of bone cancer. I can't say I remember too many specifics I was newly married living with active alcoholism and maintaining my own world of denial. My plate was full and couldn't face the loss of the last person who I knew loved me for sure.
It is weird how denial works it protects us from the things we can't bare to see for as long as it takes. Why own up to a life that isn't living up to what we had hoped for? My own life of denial kept me in places far longer than I needed to be there because if I acknowledged the truth I thought it would kill me.
The problem with denial is that no one can reach you and you miss out on real connections. You can avoid immediate grief but it is still there underneath sucking the life of you so you don't feel anything.
I think the research I have been doing on my family has helped me to acknowledge a different reality than the story I have been telling myself. It got too real a couple of times and I to take a break.
I loved my grandmother and I understand the denial that she lived in most of the time. The reality of her many losses was too much for her. She had to survive and take care of her family so in her mind she created her version of reality. She loved me even though I called her out on her manipulating tactics and I can see eyes now behind those glasses with a little grin on her face. She knew that knew.
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