1964 - 1968 and where it all started
I'm grouping these years together. Obviously I don't remember much from this era. . .just some vague snipits here and there and I'm not even completely sure all of them are real memories or something that I pictured in my mind later, like when reading a book or something.
I do remember watching Billy Graham on the black and white TV in the house I lived in from 0 - 6 years. I remember meeting Aunt Becky for the first time ever in that house and didn't like her at first because she tapped me on the head with some papers. . .I remember being attached to my mom's side much of the time. Riding in the HUGE chevrolet (probably a '66 or '67) to our little town for groceries. I remember that I had a bed in my parents' bedroom and my mom had to lie beside me for me to be able to go to sleep.
I should explain that I was and always will be an only child born to 'older' parents. It seems strange to say that when I am now 9 years older than my mom was when she had me (and I'm the mom of a 6 year old) but for the day and age, they were 'older' parents who were well-meaning people who really wouldn't dream of huring anyone. Unfortunately they also didn't have a real clue on what to do to raise kids either. Not that anybody really did in those days.
My dad though, was at a real disadvantage. In the work I've done with dysfunctional families since that time I've begun to try to figure them out but doubt I will never get it completely figured out. Most dysfunctional families have some sense of attachment to other members but this does not seem to be the case with that family. My paternal grandpa was a horribly abusive parent and likely somewhat mentally ill. From what I've heard it appears that he particularly disliked my dad. Whatever nurturing he got was from his mom who died when dad was 14. Thus, my dad has always been emotionally a 14 year old. I do not say this with malice. He never physically or sexually abused me even though I believe both ran through his family of origin. I am grateful that he knew, somehow, that this couldn't be carried on. For awhile, when I was in therapy, I tried placing all of the blame on grandpa only to later find out that his own mother (my great-grandmother) had been somewhat crazy and mean too. Perhaps, I began thinking, each generation is improving just ever so slightly and maybe by the time my great-children come alone the **a*h* family may have a clue about how to provide one of those awesome, Leave It To Beaver/Brady Bunch type of environments I've always envisioned others having.
Anyway, I digress. Essentially what I remember from my dad during these years is "children should be seen and not heard" and him taunting "cry baby, cry baby" when I cried about some fairly insignificant kid thing. He was emotionally 14. We've since made our peace but I would be an adult before any sort of real relationship has come about.
Mom was the gentlest, sweetest lady I've ever known. She loved me although she would never say it without prompting. Her family was slightly more functional but still had it's oddities. My grandfather generally refused to have anything to do with organized religion and my grandmother was fanatical about it and in a denomination with it's own peculiarities. As opposed to my dad's family though, these people would help me if I ever needed it and indeed, are still a part of my live. . .most of them. On my dad's side I have contact with one aunt (who is really, really neat actually) and one cousin. Both of them got far, far away geographically from the place where they grew up and it seems this perspective has helped them become "real people". At least they know what to do with me. It seems like I have 3 heads and 4 arms when I run into the rest of that clan. They really have never experienced anyone quite like me, I guess.
Anyway, back to mom. She was injured at birth or thereabouts and was somewhat lower functioning. Growing up in a family of validictorians had to be hard but none of this ever seemed to really bother her. She just never really concerned herself with "what if's". . .no matter what was going on, she just pretty much accepted life on life's terms. A part of her I am now striving to emulate. She had some really neat qualities.
