Does the world really repeat itself as we age?
As a youngster, I was pretty much ignored in my family. My dad died when I was 15; up until that time, I can only remember him actually talking to me. For quite a while, I actually thought he was mute.
I also had two older brothers (?), ok, biological siblings is a better description as, compared to what I note in other families, they shared no brotherly affection or interest in me at all. Well, maybe that’s not exactly true, my one brother, David, loved to bully me whenever possible; a couple of times, he did some pretty severe physical damage.
My mother did most, if not all of the talking in the family. She was quite adept at encapsulating each member of the family so as there was no real family unit, just disconnected parts. To the best of my knowledge, she did this to everyone she knew. Her favorite phrase was something like, “Someone said this about you, but I promised not to say who.” or “I’m not supposed to tell you this, but this is what happened to your nephew and no one wants you to know.” Then why even tell me? Easy, to reinforce her control of the isolation she placed me in as a child.
Now, with some things changing in my life, it’s very hard for me to accept being alone. I realize that should I live longer, my mind and body will deteriorate, perhaps to the point where I’ll be in a vegetative state; alone again, in my world of thoughts unspoken.
Someone, I once cared about and for, is leaving my life this month. It’s time this person left and time hard lessons are learned, but they’re not mine. Strange as it may sound, there is an old emptiness returning to me with this parting.
Who, will be there for me when my time comes?