Someone I am close to recently was describing his concept of how it takes a community to raise a family. I've never thought about it that way, but it sure seems to be true. My Momma was stuck with raising my little brother and I all by herself, and I think the way my brother and I have turned out is evidence of a problem. I only speak frankly, so let's not sugar coat it. The two of us are substance abusers, me more so than him because I have always been open to experimentation. My brother despises hard drugs, and I believe that has saved him from the numerous jackpots I have got myself into (read about one of the majors here: The Biggest Mistake of My Life )
One more thing my brother and I have in common is how we are both at least ten years behind in maturity according to society's standards. I am into my fortieth year, still trying to figure out who I am, living life like a vagabond while I continue to experiment and try to figure it all out. All the while my brother has opted to remain an adolescent in spite of his also rapidly approaching fortieth birthday.
If you read my blog, you already know more than most about me, so I will just let you know that my brother enjoys and succeeds at bar-tending, skate boarding, drinking, and smoking the good herb. He moved to North Carolina after his divorce a few years ago to live with a bunch of his buds from high school in a house where they built a skate ramp together. They are having a blast hosting parties at their house, skating, drinking, smoking and working together. My brother thinks he is in heaven and I say good for him!
In fact, I truly believe we all should do what we want to do with our lives, in spite of so-called "society norms," as long as we are not hurting ourselves or other people. Something else I have learned to be true is that we can try to make it our business if someone we love is hurting themselves, but the fact of the matter is that we are the only ones who can decide what hurts us or when we've had enough of that particular pain. When it comes to that, I tell people to back off because I decided long ago that I want my life to be chock full of experiences, even if they are bad. I want to LIVE LIKE I MEAN IT. But, that's me. Just sayin'.
As a side note, I want to add that I have recently grown a back bone after being hurt and disappointed by all the people I was self-seeking from (look for a post on this soon). Since that time, I have made the decision to do what I want, when I want because I am well aware that the people who are snubbing their noses at me right now won't be with me at the end of my forever (or maybe even through the night sometimes!). I want to be grinning widely as I reflect on my life when I am old. Being a people-pleaser will not get me there now or in the end, so don't expect me to conform to any expectations, opinions or labels. I don't give a crap about what people think about me or fake people who fall prey to this type of behavior.
As I have discussed in other posts, we were on welfare briefly, but my mother wanted more for us. She put herself through school and worked her ass off to keep us off the welfare track. She got up early went to work then came home exhausted every single night of week. On weekends we spent time together doing fun things like taking rides to outdoor places, rollerskating, going to the zoo, shopping, going out to eat and whatever she could find for us to do within a single mother's budget. She made sure we had fun on the weekends because that was the only time she was able to spend with us. We were not rich, but we did not starve. Unfortunately, her forced absence did nothing to help my brother and I to learn anything about being responsible, happy and well-adjusted adults.
What has my community done for us lately? NOTHING, ever, except adding confusion and despair to our hearts and minds over and over.
My deadbeat dad (read about him here: Dear Daddy and our relationship here: Father's Response to Dear Daddy and here: You Can't Make Chicken Salad Out of Chicken Shit ) walked out on my mother at the same time my grandfather, who was a pilot, was killed in the big plane crash at Logan when I was just two. My grandmother was already a pill head while he was alive and she got worse after the accident. She and my mother have fought since my mom was a kid, and my grandmother's presence in our lives ceased when I was 13, along with every single one of my relatives' contact with us. They all turned on us because of whatever happened between the two Matriarchs and by extension my brother and I. Like what happened with my deadbeat dad, us kids where victims of our relatives battles with my Mom. Our entire community abandoned us.
My brother and I learned how to take care of ourselves while my Momma was at work. We made our own breakfasts, lunch was at school, and my Mom would make dinner for us six nights a week. We went out eat together on the seventh day. Like most families, dinner time was where we caught up with each other and my Mom made it her priority to be there. My brother and I were good kids because my Mom managed us well. We had chores to stay out of trouble, cleaned up after ourselves and my small family did the best we could to make it work for us.
In spite of it all, my Momma gave all she had to raise us, but she could not be there to direct our growing up for the simple reason that she was footing all of the bills. It's not that I would expect others to pay our bills for us, but I know my father's child support and input when we were growing up would have certainly helped us out a lot. It would have been nice if we had a family to spend time with on holidays, birthdays and just in general to gain support. I know it would have helped to take the pressure off my Mom.
Over the years, my Mom continued to excel at her sales position and she was promoted to manager in my preteen years. Now she worked twice as much and was rarely home. I discovered the darker side of life and sprouted horns. I swear, I must have been the worst teenager ever. I refused to listen to anything my Mom said, and she could not control me if she wanted to keep her job. Believe me, she tried, but her efforts where futile. Fortunately, for her, my brother did not even begin drinking until he was of age. She had enough to deal with due to my atrocious behavior.
So what was the thanks my Mom got from me for working her ass off her entire life to keep me out of the ghetto? I practically spit in her face and did every thing possible to piss her off. I was depressed, confused, lonely and angry, so she got the brunt of everything I was feeling just because she was there. On top of attacking my Mom whenever I had the chance, I made a game out of never having to see her so I could get away with doing whatever I wanted to do.
The party was at our house as soon as my Mom left for work. My friends and I drank and drugged all day, then we all cleaned up the house and we'd split to whatever trouble we could find during the night. I'd leave a note for my Mom detailing the chores "I did" during the day and at 15, I was telling her "I won't be home for dinner and to please don't wait up". I had a job and my own money, which gave me a set of brass balls. Looking back I realize how dumb and immature I was at that age, but I thought I knew everything. It breaks my heart to remember how incredibly mean I was to the one person who was committed to being there for me. I will spend the rest of my life doing all I can to make up for the horrible way I treated my Mother as a teen.
A community may have helped my mother to control me. They could have helped to convince me not to drop out of school, which was a terrible mistake for me, since it carved a path of destruction that none of us saw coming. Who knows what would have happened had there been another voice for me to listen to? Unfortunately, no one in my family cared enough to even notice.
My Mom was alone and responsible for making all of the decisions for us with no help from anyone while she was still learning how to be an adult herself. Like all of us, she made some mistakes, but I know in my heart that she did the very best she could with what she had to work with and it has taken me a long time to really be able to recognize that. Like most, I used to blame everything on her until I understood fully what it is like to be responsible for myself. I have a hard enough time taking care of my dog, I cannot imagine being in my Mom's shoes.
My community was not available to me when I was growing up and I needed them the most, but they came out of the woodwork after my arrest for aiding and abetting bank robbery. Everyone was present and they all lined up to point the finger at my Mom. For a brief period of time prior to me going to jail and for a short time after I was released, my extended family spent time with me. It was great to see them until it became clear to me why they were all there. Eventually, I grew tired of hearing them talk smack about the only person who has always been here for me. When I started standing up for her, they all went away as fast as they showed up. Good riddance.
It takes a community to raise a family, but the three of us had to learn to live without one. Don't you dare blame it on my Momma, she is still the only person in the world who still loves and supports me NO MATTER WHAT.
So That's What's Up!
Live Like You Mean It! Go-Go Rach
