Chapter 29
How do you fix something that you don't know how to fix? Fix something that you don't know is broken...fix something that requires two to fix. Does it take two people to screw in a light bulb? It depends on the type of light bulb you are putting in.
I remember it like it was yesterday. We were on a trip to Texas where we went to celebrate the wedding anniversary of our Step-Mother's Parents. My brother and I stared outside of the window and wondered what was in store for us. We hadn't been here in years. We were not the same children anymore but instead children that were now being raised by our Mother. We always tried to fit in but it is difficult to fit in with the family of your father's mistress. Even after 16 years it never got easier to belong. As we pulled on the property there stood memories of our past. It was as if everything that I had let go had rushed back into me. The fake smile appeared and as my brother squeezed my hands as if he knew what I was thinking, I realized that this weekend vacation would be full of uncontrolled emotions. We always shared that special bond. We hadn't overcome years of abuse but even still we stood united and stronger because of our battles. I still wonder how even now I can maintain strength when everything was taking away from us. Years living in captivity where we were forced to live where we were never happy. Being children of divorce forces children to deal with emotions that they are not capable of dealing with. They are told to deal with their emotions the way the parents expect them to, never how they can. They hide their tears, their pains, and concerns and mask them with a fake smile to show approval of a new relationship that was normally built on mistrust. We knew what stood before us and how the family we were told was ours truly felt about us. Related by marriage but never by blood is the feeling that crept upon us each visit we made. As we got out of the car the excitement was all around, my brother and I took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. What they remembered as a skinny flat chest, rib cage showing 9 year old girl was now 16 and fully developed. My breast filled my bra that my mom bought me before I left. My hair twisted up and curled to perfection in the back. I remember most of the comments were about how I had grown. As I sat back and took in the sight, the smells, the sounds, across the yard came my Step Mother's brother. At that time we called him Uncle. His eyes lit up as he grabbed us and hugged us with what felt like a genuine hug. His pores overflowed with alcohol, His speech slurred and his eyes blood shot red. He grabbed my shoulders and stared at me as if he was taking it all in. My brother grabbed my hand and led me towards the house where cousins sat laughing and taking in the sights. Things felt better than what we thought they would be. Each day was filled with different celebrations and laughter. During the cookout, an Aunt approached me and questioned how I was dealing with life now and apologizing for not saving me. Her eyes filled with tears as she grabbed me and pulled me to the other side of the house where she reminded me of the yeas of abuse that we endured. Some stories I had purposely forgotten. It was as if I began reliving the pain and was overcome by a sense of anger towards the life that I had left behind. Why was it important for her to bring these memories to me as if it was her baggage that she needed to check in? I was still young and not ready to deal with my past. I was still in the process of working on my present. My father seen that I was cornered and called for me to come over where he sat......whew saved by my dad! For the first time in a long time I realized that it wasn't just me going through this pain. It was a family of uncared for wounds. Yes they heal on their own, but with a little care they can heal properly and at a steadier pace. When a wound is left uncared for it leaves a deeper scar that each time you look at it it reminds you of not only how it occurred but how you dealt with it. Many people still have not grasp that being hurt and healing is a process that goes hand in hand.
The trip seemed to fly by, with laughter, food, backtracking through memory lane as we counted down the days till we said goodbye. The final day came and we planned to go swimming, or should I say stand in the water because even at the age of 16 I still could not swim. I wore a striped two piece bikini with boy shorts. My hair twisted going backwards with layers of curls. We jumped into the pool and laughed as if we were kids. We felt like we had no worries at all. We didn't think about our past, our present, or our future, just the laughter that we shared together.
