WHO HURTS WORSE? Another perspective of 'Hell'

PART III - the children (well, one of the children - now an adult)

(Jr. I Define Me here) -

“The GEM cannot be polished without friction” Chinese proverb.

I  think so many people look at this situation and feel sorry for my mom, and place blame on my dad. It was not that way for me at all. Actually before I found out, I feel I believed more that the dysfunction in our family was my mom’s fault. I love her dearly and now have a different view about her and the turmoil growing up. Here is a little about what I experienced before I found out my dad is gay and some of my perception I had of the turmoil.

For the first ten yrs of my life before he told my mom, it was a completely “normal” or balanced feel within our family. All I remember was love, laughter, fun, and family. He taught me so many things such as how to YELL and SCREAM if someone ever “grabbed me” or attempted to kidnap me and even made me practice by coming up and grabbing me and running trying to hold me down and I had to yell and bite and kick and scream “ HE”S NOT MY DADDY!! HE’S NOT MY DADDY!!”. He taught me how to punch a boy (bully) in the nose and that I do it HARD, so it bleeds. We went camping, fishing, and riding horses with family. We went to parks, festivals, and swimming. We had a many different boats throughout my young life and we used to go boating a lot in the summer. My dad taught me how to water ski when I was 7yrs old, and we (eldest and I) tubed behind the boat for so long we would lose our voices. We packed picnics and grew gardens, huge vegetable gardens, and my parents both held us accountable for our actions.

We were caught up in all the normal family things like school, homework, weekends, and movies, Christmas, church, moving from apartments to houses, dance and so many other things families do.  Dad was ALL the wonderful things a dad was supposed to be. He was loving, supportive, outgoing. He and my mom made a good team and I never felt scared or alone or wondered what was wrong with anyone.

When I turned 12 is when my world seemed to turn into something I was unsure of. I was untrusting of my mom and her emotions and I did not feel I could confide in my dad about anything. The dysfunction did seem to be an underlying thing, like a lava, we could not predict when an eruption would happen but we knew it was there. The true core of our family was more obvious and manifested through my parents definite perseverance to have a loving happy family. Much of the time throughout these “bad years” we were a happy, loving, family in my perception; then lava erupted and us kids felt separated from our parents, trying to understand what was happening, and why, but no real concrete answers ever presented itself. As these years went on the “eruptions” seemed more frequent, more powerful, and as kids we were feeling less confident in our parents relationship.

Before I found out, and especially throughout those 13 yrs when my dad was doing the “down low” activity, I personally felt more sympathy for my dad that he was “putting up with my mom” for so long.
When I stated before that sometimes I wished for divorce, it was because I felt my dad deserved better than my mom and her crazy tantrums and emotional outbursts. Without knowing the cause, I felt my mom was the problem within the marriage. I witness so much more dysfunction visibly from my mom, and watched my dad so often allow it, and he even seemed to humbly, and passively comply to these antics.

Now Dad got angry too. When he did HE WAS ANGRY! It was scary when my dad became angry at any of us. My main perception of the most dysfunction, was right before Eldest moved out and then maybe 5 years after that, from about age 13 till I turned 18 and moved out myself. During that time I feel my parents fought more often when we kids were not around, but my mom’s hurt could not help but BOIL OVER into the home and to us kids. She seemed to always be scowling and unhappy, and I felt for some of my teenage yrs she might have had schizophrenia. She was hot and cold, and up and down. She would come in from the grocery store and be fine, then walk in to the kitchen and if it was a mess she would go lock herself inside her room and cry for hours.  I thought she was crying over dirty dishes.

One time I remember she walked in and took a dirty plate from the sink and broke it over the sink and counter, and then walked into the bedroom and stayed in there the rest of the day. To a child this was internalized as a very visible problem with mom, not dad. She seemed angry at dad so much of the time and I mostly took my dad’s side. I saw my mom mad at my dad more often, and dad seemed only to defend himself against her. I had sympathy for them both but I often felt that if they divorced it was because my dad was finally DONE dealing with my crazy mom.  I even felt that I would go choose to live with dad.

Still, they always stayed together, and even when they were fighting, I knew they loved each other. I remember watching Ratatouille ( Disney movie with a rat chef) and there is a part in the beginning when the rat (Remi) is running through an apartment complex and he passes a French couple where the woman is pointing a gun to the man, and he cries,  “YOU WOULDN’T DARE!”,  then the gun goes off and Remi returns to see them both passionately kissing each other. I saw that and thought “THAT’S IT!! My parents are FRENCH!!” this was before I found out about my dad. 

My dad did always back up my mom, and when I would complain to him about her, he never allowed me to be disrespectful. I felt it was unfair in my immaturity, that my dad, who I thought would agree about my mom’s emotional outbursts, would not take my side but instead tell me to “honor my mother for all of my days.”

My dad was more disassociated with us kids during that time period. He hardly asked me how my day was, or how school was. He didn’t seem interested in my likes and dislikes, or extracurricular activities. After an accomplishment, or a recital he was proud, and giddy and loving and excited. These are some of my favorite memories of my dad, but it was mom who was the glue to my school life and everything else in between. I just couldn’t trust her emotions or mood. It was like a rollercoaster with her. With my dad, it was more obvious he was comfortable and free in the family and at home but disconnected in a way.

Even when they separated for a few weeks, I felt that it was all so confusing. I remember the tension but there did not seem to be any real reason, other than some fighting over bills and petty stuff like that. Then one morning my parents were getting ready for something and leaving me to babysit my 2 younger siblings (which I did OFTEN) and suddenly my mom came running in and shut herself into her bedroom, and dad came in and asked us kids to come listen to him. He told us he was leaving and he was not coming back. He was crying and looked so unhappy, but as I listened, I felt I was not surprised. I was maybe 14yrs old. When I told my neighbor friends about my dad leaving, they asked why, and what happened…….. I honestly thought long and hard about it and had no good answer. I said my mom had been acting crazy, and they fought about bills and money. My friends, especially the one with divorced parents were expecting something more than that as an explanation.

Then one day my dad came back, about 2 weeks later (could be wrong, I feel I misremember a lot as I blocked much of it.) and I do not remember any kind of reconciliation or them speaking to us about what happened. Maybe they can clear this one up within a post ;-)

There were very confusing and painful things going on between my parents as we grew up. I want to say one more time though, they always obviously LOVED OUR FAMILY and worked very very hard to do their best at shielding us from the problems, and teaching us how to be good, functioning, honest and contributing members of society. They went to great lengths to put aside the turmoil and work together for their children’s sake. They pushed through more hellfire and brimstone then I could ever imagine to define their lives the way they felt was best for them.

My mother especially deserves praise and high honor for the part she played within keeping our family and their marriage together. She fought through the tears and the torment and did her best to put on her “brave face” and be the glue needed to keep us together. I will always be grateful for the example she was in a situation she had full right to literally fall apart, and give up. Her strength is exemplary.
For me having a full understanding of this, and forgiveness for them both, I feel I am a stronger more aware person. I can withstand trials I have been faced with, and feel confident in my power to observe, decide and conquer any and all things in my life.  In finding out about my dad it gave me more understanding about my mom’s antics, and my dads role within that. I was so sorry I had blamed her for so many years. I also then felt compassion for my dad and his struggles.  I do not remember any anger.
In talking with my dad he was so humble and sorry about his actions and the toll they took on everyone. He still is. In deciding to do this blog and in writing much of the posts, I talk with my dad, and he weeps everytime. I have never seen a person who realizes the devastating things they have done, be more meek and humble about it. He understands fully that we may have never forgiven him for some of his actions and choices, and I know he still feels the deep regret of the risks he was taking and the pain and dysfunction he caused.  I look at my life, and I am thankful my dad asked my mom to marry him. I am thankful my mom stayed through the hurt and turmoil. I am thankful I have siblings to share my life with. I am thankful I have my own children who show me everyday how precious life is and teach me why my parents worked so hard to save their family.  No one is perfect. We are all children of God.

I am thankful for my family. I am thankful for our trials.
         
DISCLAIMER: This is solely MY perception of MY family and OUR personal story. I believe there are more roads to happiness then anyone could imagine. I hope every person may find happiness and contentment within whatever his or her definition of living is.