Oh my goodness me, this is likely to be an extremely rushed out post, but I need need need to get it out of me so that I can concentrate on my methodology for my dissertation! The last part of my dissertation, the Literature review, was one day late because my dad was in hospital with hypothermia because he went out running on the Brecon Beacons. Durr. And now they've gone to Finland!
I do not want the methodology to be a day late, however, another, newly discovered Aunt has contacted me. That's been two in as many months. I have so so so many feelings. Just as soon as I begin/get used to/understand why my relationship with my dad is as it is, it all becomes whipped up in this maelstrom family which is reaching Eastenders levels of dafuq....
The first person to get in contact was Auntie H. She is nearby, she has been my whole life and I never knew. Each conversation has gently probed more and I'm learning of cousins, cousins who have children. There is a BIG family out there in contrast to my insular comforting little box of Murphys which is Me, and younger brothers N and E. We are so close. The fact that Dad has had little to no contact with his brothers and sisters most of his grown up life breaks my heart for him. Auntie H explained she was the youngest of all the siblings and that she misses my Dad. The wonder that is facebook has meant that Dad and Auntie H have spoken..... and the same with Auntie S.
Auntie S got in touch yesterday. She is very pretty and has a giant smile. She has a small buisness in weymouth and she has daughters my age. Our exchange was brief, I had explained my gratitude for the contact and that I know little (nothing) about them and am so eager to meet. Auntie S invited me to the next reunion but told me to concentrate on my dissertation right now
Today this seems impossible. But how would that sound on Monday to my project supervisor K?! "Hi K, I'm sorry that the methodology is 24 hours late but the mystery steeped side of my family that I know nothing about and was warned against asking about has contacted me and I can hardly contain myself or name any of the feelings I have".... I've got to prove I can seperate the private life from proffessional life.
This morning I realised that last night I'd spoken, via messenger to Auntie H and allowed my brain to rattle off the questions uninhibited. I have epilepsy and sometimes my medicines include benzodiazepines which create anterograde amnesia and reduce inhibition, hence not realising what I'd said and asked.
Myself and Auntie H swapped numbers, I asked how many Aunties and Uncles were out there, I asked what it was like when she was growing up, I asked what my grandparents were called and I asked what had happened. I wanted to feel grounded.
But my stupid inquisitive self did not even consider that just because I want to know answers, it doesn't mean that Aunties will feel able to provide answers. I didn't think of how these questions could hurt Auntie H. I don't know what happened to Dad and his siblings after the mystery that happened with his parents. I know that 'the thing', the mystery, was a very, very bad thing. I know my Dad ended up looking after them all for a while. I know that some of dad's siblings went 'off the rails' Auntie H said she thought that part of the disintegration was something to do with Aunt M (I've never spoken to her) and Uncle V (I have the vaguest, briefest memory of a loud scary man with scary false front teeth)
My dad is not facebook friends with those last two. It seems that facebook has allowed gentle and tentative contact between dad and the siblings that wished to make contact. I wish i had not asked Aunt H about what happened, I apologised for my unbridled curiosity and explained that i had just so many feelings and QUESTIONS, questions that had been bottled and boiled up for years. Questions that couldn't be asked, questions that caused pain and anger in my dad - I don't understand at the time. How can a man with such a dysfunctional childhood which contains so many monsters be expected to father a family perfectly, to give up his ways of controlling such an uncontrollable, crazy world (too much excercise and obsessive cleaning - children are not very clean!) when he has had to live through the unimaginable?
Auntie H said she couldn't remember her parents/my grandparents and that all her life she'd been asking the same questions.
One sibling, an Auntie I think has died. I did not ask about that. This is all too soon, to quick, too immersive. It's only been two months.
That's when I started crying, in earnest. I opened that pandora's box with such careless abandon, not realising that these were someone elses demons to battle with. I cried and cried, I cried for my Dad, I cried for all the feelings he must've swallowed down, I cried for his lost childhood and lack of loving parents, I cried for his responsibility at a young age, I cried that he'd lost a bond with siblings that I hope is not too late to repair somewhat, I cried he's never felt what I feel with my brothers N and E. I cried because all this time ALL THIS TIME, this has been with my Dad, 'the thing' has been with my Dad. I fear 'the thing', I can see it's damage but I know nothing of this and my mind imagines the worst.
My poor father, I didn't understand his anger or need for control, his isolation. So much makes sense now.
I've cried because of my father before, I've cried when I saw him cry, once. He's cried once. And that was when we all thought I might die, just before I went into hospital. I cried not from fear but because I realised he loved me and i'd always thought that he didn't because of the way he deals with emotions. I understand now. Now I am crying for him. For the injustice. For hiraeth. I feel hurt for him and I feel loss and grief for what could've been for him. I cry because I've been so harsh with some of my thoughts.
I cried because he bore the force of 'the thing'.
I don't know if my aunts and uncles speak of it. But I've brashly asked. I felt I couldn't not ask.
I still don't know my grandparents names.
I must be careful and tread lightly. I must also not raise expectations. A part of me thinks that in making contact with a family that seemed almost mythical and that I didn't consider I would meet, might make me feel whole, safe. A part of me thinks that I could understand more and that the hiraeth would diminish....
That could be a pipedream. To pin hopes on such a thing is dangerous.
But my gosh, this is overwhelming. My world is exploding and unruly thoughts fire off in every direction. Soon I can explore these. The unknown.
But for now, just at least until May it's time to sit tight, buckle up and rein it all in for the marathon that is the dissertation.
I apologise for piss poor grammar and spelling but these things just spilled out of my heart and on to this page without any barrier whatsover.
Updates to follow.
