Bittersweet (maybe one small trigger word?)
Uncle Herb and Aunt Annie are not blood relatives, but they are family nonetheless. I actually stopped calling them Aunt and Uncle, at their request about 30 years ago, just after my father died.
Herb was my father's childhood friend. Annie was my mother's. The boys were two years older than the girls. They all lived on the lower east side of Manhattan in the early 1930's.
The area was the great melting pot of America you read about in the history books. Dad and Herb are Jewish, mom is Italian, Annie is Polish, and there were Greeks, Irish, German, Chinese, and probably most other groups you can think of.
When the boys were 11, and the girls 9, there was a confrontation and somehow the bonds were created that ended in two marriages nine years later, and friendships that have lasted until this day.
The boys were jumping from roof to roof across a narrow alley. The girls, led by my mom, the undisputed leader of her gang, went to join in. My Dad wouldn't let them. He physically blocked my mom from trying. She slapped his face and taunted him when he didn't react. He told her, "Do whatever you want. You're not jumping unless you throw me off the roof first."
Well, she backed down and had found her hero. My dad said she was feisty and respected her "nerve". The rest is history, and thirteen children between the two couples (nine for my parents).
Three years ago, I disclosed to Herb and Annie one afternoon on the phone when Herb said, "how are you?" I drove up to see them a few days later and it was all positive outcome and very relieving on many levels.
Herb and Ann have been a bigger, more frequent part of my life than any of my "real" Aunts and Uncles", so one of the things we talked about (OK, I asked about), beyond whether or not they knew what happened to me (they didn't), was if there was anything in my behavior or my parent's actions or statements that might make sense now, give me some clue. I was fishing around I guess. There was nothing.
Until last weekend. Herb and Ann are snowbirds, Florida / upstate New York, a beautiful little house on a lake about five minutes from the site of the first Woodstock.
They are leaving for Florida this week and came down last Friday for the weekend. Herb asked me to take a ride with him to get the ingredients for dinner. We were getting fish and here on this Island, that means we go down to the docks where the best fish stores are located.
Herb wanted to sit on the dock for a while first and he started talking. This is what he said, to the best of my recollection, which is still pretty fresh.
*********************************************************************
Donald, I should have told you this three years ago. At first I didn't think of it, and then I was back in Florida, and I didn't want to tell you on the phone. Then when I saw you the next summer, you seemed to be doing real good, so I didn't want to bring it up.
Then, last summer, well you seemed kind of down and I didn't want to take a chance to upset you. The thing is, your father did say something and I promised him I'd never mention it, but he's gone a long time now, and I think it's OK. I know it's OK. Remember when you were a young teenager, how every time your parents came to visit us, they'd bring you along and none of your brothers or sisters?
Did you know that for about two years, they visited way more than usual because they knew you liked it and it seemed to cheer you up? And it wasn't just us. They took you when they went to vist Ruby (dad's brother), Harriet (dad's sister), and Lilly (mom's sister).
They made a lot of those visits for you. Maybe the third time they brought you with them, I asked your dad what was up? They never had babysitter problems, there was always 4 younger ones they left home, but not you. At least half those visits were just for you.
Anyway, your dad told me they wouldn't leave you alone. Wouldn't let you out of their sight really. They were afraid you would hurt yourself.
***********************************************************************
There was more, but it's just some details about how I acted on those visits and how I changed over time - about three years this all went on, until I was pretty much OK and functioning like a "normal 16 year old".
Learning this was tough. It's full of positives and negatives. For one thing it starts right after I was r*ped. I would say I was in shock or deep trauma, for about a year afterwards. I had no will, no desires, no opinions. If they said get in the car we're going to Herb and Annie's, I got in the car. Take a bath, I took a bath. Go to the store, I went to the store. Take out the trash, I took out the trash. The rest of the time, I sat in my room "doing homework".
The next thing is, well, what about some professional help? Did that ever occur to anyone?
It did to Herb, he suggested it to my dad, but my dad thought they should see how things go. He told Herb that I had seen the school counsellors and psychologists in Kindergarten, first grade, 2nd, 4th, 5th, and again recently, and the answer was always the same as to what was bothering me. "Nothing. Nothing to talk about. Nothing at all"
What would I do, I wonder. How would I have made me talk? Could I have? Could anybody? I like to think that someone today would pick up on what I was going through, ask the direct questions, but I honestly have my doubts. And doubts that anyone would have gotten a straight answer from me, except maybe my father, if he had taken just the "right" approach. Sigh...
It also occurs to me that during the period in question, my dad sometimes took me fishing with him. He usually went alone, and he never asked anyone else back then, but sometimes he asked (made?) me come along even on a school day!!!???
"I had no will, no desires, no opinions." This really hurts to write this because it became a recurring theme in my life, THE Theme of my life, for large periods. The worst was college where the agonies of my past became unbearable, and I used drugs of all types to recreate that place of FALSE peace. No will. No desires. No opinions. "Desires" still gives me a lot of trouble, but that's another topic.
On the upside, my parents knew something was up. They watched over me. I don't know what they thought except I might hurt myself.
The thing is, I was hurting myself. First with a large upholstery pin, which is more like a 3 inch nail but very sharp. Then burning with matches and a lighter when I could get one. That only lasted about a year or two. Not too many scars, but probably why I would never even consider getting pierced or tatooed.
So it's good news and bad news, but I'm focusing on the good. I know a lot of you can't say this, but for me, home was always safe. Maybe that's partly why I lived there most of my adult life, and why I live 2 miles away now. I take what Herb told me as more evidence that I was safe, and how lucky I was, even if my parents didn't have a clue; even if I think now they didn't do enough.
Bittersweet for sure.
Herb was my father's childhood friend. Annie was my mother's. The boys were two years older than the girls. They all lived on the lower east side of Manhattan in the early 1930's.
The area was the great melting pot of America you read about in the history books. Dad and Herb are Jewish, mom is Italian, Annie is Polish, and there were Greeks, Irish, German, Chinese, and probably most other groups you can think of.
When the boys were 11, and the girls 9, there was a confrontation and somehow the bonds were created that ended in two marriages nine years later, and friendships that have lasted until this day.
The boys were jumping from roof to roof across a narrow alley. The girls, led by my mom, the undisputed leader of her gang, went to join in. My Dad wouldn't let them. He physically blocked my mom from trying. She slapped his face and taunted him when he didn't react. He told her, "Do whatever you want. You're not jumping unless you throw me off the roof first."
Well, she backed down and had found her hero. My dad said she was feisty and respected her "nerve". The rest is history, and thirteen children between the two couples (nine for my parents).
Three years ago, I disclosed to Herb and Annie one afternoon on the phone when Herb said, "how are you?" I drove up to see them a few days later and it was all positive outcome and very relieving on many levels.
Herb and Ann have been a bigger, more frequent part of my life than any of my "real" Aunts and Uncles", so one of the things we talked about (OK, I asked about), beyond whether or not they knew what happened to me (they didn't), was if there was anything in my behavior or my parent's actions or statements that might make sense now, give me some clue. I was fishing around I guess. There was nothing.
Until last weekend. Herb and Ann are snowbirds, Florida / upstate New York, a beautiful little house on a lake about five minutes from the site of the first Woodstock.
They are leaving for Florida this week and came down last Friday for the weekend. Herb asked me to take a ride with him to get the ingredients for dinner. We were getting fish and here on this Island, that means we go down to the docks where the best fish stores are located.
Herb wanted to sit on the dock for a while first and he started talking. This is what he said, to the best of my recollection, which is still pretty fresh.
*********************************************************************
Donald, I should have told you this three years ago. At first I didn't think of it, and then I was back in Florida, and I didn't want to tell you on the phone. Then when I saw you the next summer, you seemed to be doing real good, so I didn't want to bring it up.
Then, last summer, well you seemed kind of down and I didn't want to take a chance to upset you. The thing is, your father did say something and I promised him I'd never mention it, but he's gone a long time now, and I think it's OK. I know it's OK. Remember when you were a young teenager, how every time your parents came to visit us, they'd bring you along and none of your brothers or sisters?
Did you know that for about two years, they visited way more than usual because they knew you liked it and it seemed to cheer you up? And it wasn't just us. They took you when they went to vist Ruby (dad's brother), Harriet (dad's sister), and Lilly (mom's sister).
They made a lot of those visits for you. Maybe the third time they brought you with them, I asked your dad what was up? They never had babysitter problems, there was always 4 younger ones they left home, but not you. At least half those visits were just for you.
Anyway, your dad told me they wouldn't leave you alone. Wouldn't let you out of their sight really. They were afraid you would hurt yourself.
***********************************************************************
There was more, but it's just some details about how I acted on those visits and how I changed over time - about three years this all went on, until I was pretty much OK and functioning like a "normal 16 year old".
Learning this was tough. It's full of positives and negatives. For one thing it starts right after I was r*ped. I would say I was in shock or deep trauma, for about a year afterwards. I had no will, no desires, no opinions. If they said get in the car we're going to Herb and Annie's, I got in the car. Take a bath, I took a bath. Go to the store, I went to the store. Take out the trash, I took out the trash. The rest of the time, I sat in my room "doing homework".
The next thing is, well, what about some professional help? Did that ever occur to anyone?
It did to Herb, he suggested it to my dad, but my dad thought they should see how things go. He told Herb that I had seen the school counsellors and psychologists in Kindergarten, first grade, 2nd, 4th, 5th, and again recently, and the answer was always the same as to what was bothering me. "Nothing. Nothing to talk about. Nothing at all"
What would I do, I wonder. How would I have made me talk? Could I have? Could anybody? I like to think that someone today would pick up on what I was going through, ask the direct questions, but I honestly have my doubts. And doubts that anyone would have gotten a straight answer from me, except maybe my father, if he had taken just the "right" approach. Sigh...
It also occurs to me that during the period in question, my dad sometimes took me fishing with him. He usually went alone, and he never asked anyone else back then, but sometimes he asked (made?) me come along even on a school day!!!???
"I had no will, no desires, no opinions." This really hurts to write this because it became a recurring theme in my life, THE Theme of my life, for large periods. The worst was college where the agonies of my past became unbearable, and I used drugs of all types to recreate that place of FALSE peace. No will. No desires. No opinions. "Desires" still gives me a lot of trouble, but that's another topic.
On the upside, my parents knew something was up. They watched over me. I don't know what they thought except I might hurt myself.
The thing is, I was hurting myself. First with a large upholstery pin, which is more like a 3 inch nail but very sharp. Then burning with matches and a lighter when I could get one. That only lasted about a year or two. Not too many scars, but probably why I would never even consider getting pierced or tatooed.
So it's good news and bad news, but I'm focusing on the good. I know a lot of you can't say this, but for me, home was always safe. Maybe that's partly why I lived there most of my adult life, and why I live 2 miles away now. I take what Herb told me as more evidence that I was safe, and how lucky I was, even if my parents didn't have a clue; even if I think now they didn't do enough.
Bittersweet for sure.