Monday, December 19, 2005

When is honest too honest?

The following post is very personal and very candid. I’ve been walking on emotional eggshells considering how to be honest about my feelings without saying anything that could be construed as disrespectful or adding to my mother’s grief. I hope this does an okay job.

My mom and I moved in with Larry when I was 11 years old. You’d expect that living with him for over 7 years and knowing him for over 20 that we’d have known each other well. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case. Larry and I hardly knew each other. We didn’t have a bad relationship, merely an absence of one.

Larry was handy with cars, motorcycles, the house, a pool cue, and a gun. As a contractor he did a lot of work for people in the area and people considered him hardworking, competent and trustworthy. He had a lot of buddies – from the gun club, hunting trips, on the job and back in the day. There were over 100 people at his memorial service. In essence what people loved and admired about Larry was that he was a real man’s man. In my opinion it was exactly this traditional masculinity that prevented us from ever really bonding. He had three sons and little knowledge of girly things and because he wasn’t very emotionally expressive or tolerant of the emotional dramatics of a preteen girl we had a difficult time communicating. He was conservative when it came to social and political issues and as I grew into adulthood we constantly butt heads. But I always felt that our biggest hurdle was that he thought of me as another man’s child. To put it positively I’d say that he never tried to replace my Dad, but over the years I’ve also been hurt that as I perceived it he didn’t try to be anything else to me either. I’d like to think that maybe he just didn’t know how.

At the heart I do think that Larry was a good man. Many people loved and admired him – and there were many reasons to do so. And in my heart of hearts I feel that my relationship with Larry would have grown and improved with time. I’m certain that he had many valuable things to teach Noah and in their bond we could have developed further appreciation of each other. Unfortunately those days aren’t to come. For Larry all things are resolved, so I am left to resolve my feelings alone. Over the last week I’ve cried for the anguish of my mother, the sadness of Larry’s son’s and the pain of watching someone succumb to a brutal illness and die. And I’ve also cried for the loss of what never was and can never be.

8 comments:

Missuz J said...

Blended families are so tricky. I love my step-son, and try to show him that I do in ways that don't invade his mom's turf--but it's still, well, tricky.

For Larry's sake, I wish he had gotten to know what an amazingly authentic person you are.

lonna said...

What a sad post. Like MissuzJ said Larry missed out on knowing a special person.

I actually went through something similar with my own father. It's very Irish Catholic for the dad to be totally clueless about the daughter, so I was always my mom's responsibility unless he wanted to yell at me about something. My dad is also socially and politically conservative, and we had a ton of lousy fights when I was in high school and discovering my voice. Once I left home, though, I think my dad realized what he was missing. He's actually very interested in what and how I'm doing these days. I'm sorry that you and Larry never reached that point. I'm also sorry that you have to resolve this on your own at this time of grief.

hazel said...

I think we've talked about some of these issues and how you feel about them, and I must say that the way you put them in this entry was very eloquent and diplomatic without being at all dishonest. no one could argue what you say here, and it does make it sad that there's no more opportunity for things to be better. (there's also no more opportunity for things to be the same, or worse.)

Kathryn said...

It's so hard to see people we love in pain. Your mom must be so thankful that she has you and Noah to help her through. It's good that you're allowing yourself to process this in the midst of taking care of others. If there is anything at all I can do from all the way in Texas please let me know.

Anna said...

That was such a beautiful post, honest but by no means brutal. I was really touched. I'm sorry you never had the relationship with him you wanted, and sorry that Noah won't have a bonding relationship with him either. My best wishes are sent to you as you cope with all kinds of loss during this time.

Stine said...

My sympathies go out to you and your family. I came from a very mixed family, and understand everything about which you speak. It's hard, and sometimes, the only thing you can do is mourn for what could have been.

Stine said...

PS - I commend you for being honest, open, and sharing this all with us.

Anonymous said...

Honest but not hurtful. Unfortunatley, your mother always liked the macho manly type. Give me a guy who could pick up a hammer and build anything, or fix a car, and I'd melt. I don't know why the macho type also always seem to be the ones who deny their emotions. His sons will probably be the same way. I was never really happy with his and your relationship but he never did you harm and was a good provider. I remember 2 funny things about your strained relationship. First - I came home from work one day to find out you had gotten your period and you had made Larry take you to the store to get your first pads. You never did leave him off the hook when he was uncomfortable. The second thing was that when you were in your 13 year old gossippy years - Larry would sit for an hour listening to you talk about how Tiffany said something to Amber about Justin, etc. It used to crack me up that he got so involved in your pre-teen gossip - even when I couldn't...