A POST IN WHICH I AIR MOULDY LAUNDRY & SHARE HARD WON WISDOM...
It turns out that I was a surprise baby and that my Father only ever wanted one child – my brother. This revelation is, in itself, a surprise!
You see, my parents did a fine job of keeping this truth buried over the years but truth has an insidious way of coming to the surface.
For many years I used to jovially jest that the worst thing about my family was that they were a conventional and boring lot. And I felt, as I went out into the big wide world and discovered the dysfunction that reigned royal in many families, that I had been blessed.
I always thought that my Mum and Dad were good parents and, on balance they were. My brother and I enjoyed simple annual holidays, regular trips out to castles, stately homes and museums and crackin’ Chrismas doings with cheery cousins. I have fond memories of sitting on my Father’s knee playing ‘snippy snippy’ – coming in from work he would slump, and doze, in the armchair as I combed and coiffed his thinning hair. And he would innocently lie down by my side, upon the covers of my bed, and tell me fairy tales as we both nodded off at the end of the day. Our favourite was The Three Little Pigs.
It has taken me many years, and the passing of my Mother, to finally unpick the fabric of my family. For me to be able to see clearly that which faintly smelled off for many years.
Two years my senior my brother never liked me; I recall isolated incidents when we happily jogged along together but, on balance, I was the poop in his soup! Too smart to openly bully me he kinda just closed me out and down. Over the years when I complained to my Father he would simply say;
“Well, you know Barry”.
Dear Dad, a little feeble minded, played favourites and allowed division within the ranks and whilst Mother tried to iron out the creases, on balance she dutifully deferred to Father.
Nay chided, nor checked my brother’s indifference to me and sense of self-importance over the years expanded, along with his girth! (Ok, ok a cheap shot I’ll admit but true all the same). Until today with Mum gone, emboldened and sure of his preferred status, he openly flaunts his distaste for me.
A little fella with 9 cars, a big house, and even bigger ego I now watch him, in despair, manipulate my elderly Father who is unable to see clearly as he strains to glimpse his boychild who, seated high upon his gleaming pedestal, selfishly calls all the shots. Dad is now afraid to criticise or confront his son for fear of his assured disapproval. The boy is now the man and wields his corrupted influence without care or conscience. He knowingly plays on my Father’s slight feeble mindedness as he quietly plots to get me disinherited and grasp the spoils of my parents’ 60 years union.
Since Mum’s passing I have, with the help of team spirit, gained incredible clarity on all of this and been gently shown my own failings in the whole sorry affair.
I am guilty of being wishy washy!
As a little girl, observing much that was unsavoury, when my measured complaints fell on deaf ears I should have kicked off. If I had created mayhem things would have had to be dealt with but I was young, too respectful and timid to assert myself in this way.
Over time I simply learnt the futility of complaint and so kept quiet.
To varying degrees Dad, Mum and I were complicit in the deification of my brother and now we must pay the ferryman even though our family is sunk; divided into them and us. Dad/Barry/Eileen V Mum/Linda/Rick.
Despite my best efforts, following the wise counsel of spirit, to shine the light on the dodgy doings of my brother Dad chooses to see no wrong. He prefers to see me as the irritant hair shirt upon his back and is beyond our reach, lost in waters too muddied and deep, his eyes silted up.
And so Mum and the spirits, who see all, advise me to step away and save myself and Rick who has been unwittingly sucked into this mire, from the sinking ship with the words;
“What will be will be”.
The reason I share all this is to give context to the following wisdom:
- Fear closes us down. It was through fear of disapproval from my parents that I kept quiet about the baser nature of my brother.
- We are each of us here to express, and be our own truth and if, through doing so, we have to make waves so be it.
- By keeping quiet we allow small issues to become bigger problems.
- Know when to admit defeat and gracefully move on, safe in the knowledge that you tried your best to readdress the balance, and are no longer complicit in the rate of the rot.
- Refuse to shoulder the dysfunction of others.
And finally;
- Let go.
With Love xox
(New to Steemit I have a lot to contribute to this vibrant community. All words, pictures and illustrations are my own work. I politely request that if you enjoyed this piece you spread the love and generously upvote/follow and even resteem so as, together, we can fly - with thanks).
http://www.lindadacey-laforge.com