Wednesday, 15 April 2015

It Happened

I'm 21.

I know it shouldn't be a huge deal; it's just another year. But I lived so long believing I wouldn't reach my 18th birthday that to reach my 21st is just beyond comprehension. I don't feel older or different...

But I'm alive. I made it. Go me.

It's also kinda bitter for me that Nana isn't here. While I am...not happy but relieved maybe, that she's not suffering anymore, it had always been a fact of life for me that if I lived to see 21, she would be there for it. She was a fact of life and it's still sinking in that she's not here to be a fact anymore. Even when my parents (and her and Grandma) had said their being here to see this day was unlikely, I'd always figured they were being silly.

Guess they weren't.

Grandma is still here. She wasn't at my birthday dinner as I wasn't subjecting anyone including her to that experience but I did drop in on her today. ...Mostly because she was driving Dad nuts every moment I spent away from her but I did see her. She made it.

Though the rate she's going someone I love will kill her before my brother's 21st. Twenty minutes is not an hour and fifteen calls in a day is not reasonable. Dementia is evil.

But anyway. Today was good and I have enough keys to open any door...well any tiny lock at least.


Saturday, 11 April 2015

Walking On Graves

Friday I had lunch with my Grandma as she wasn't coming to my 21st (which she didn't know about) and in exchange for not having her there I'd promised my parents I'd take her out with just me. Because she tends to make scenes when she's in groups eating out and doesn't get enough attention and I was willing to do anything to avoid that at my party.

But before we went to the place I'd picked for lunch, she asked me to stop at the nearby graveyard. It'd been a while since she had gone to this graveyard and she wanted to visit Jack. 

My Granddad. 

I'm sure I've been to his grave. Possibly more than once as it is literally down the road from my surf club. But I don't recall going and as he died when I was five it's not like I remember him. So this was basically my first time seeing it. But first we had to find it which with my Grandma's memory was like trying to find a needle in a bunch of other needles. The only hint I had was that it was facing the other way to most of the other graves as she kept telling me they were all wrong and had been moved.

I found it because I saw my Dad's name on a grave. 

Which, okay logically to be expected. I know my Dad is the third man in his family in a row to have the same first, middle and (of course) last names. I know this. I'm well aware my brother is the first firstborn son to escape having his father's name for generations.

But it's another thing to see your Dad's name on a grave and not be surprised. There wasn't even anything to indicate Granddad was 'the second' of his name. Just Dad's name on the grave, with my Granddad's dates. It was vaguely disconcerting but Grandma (of course) didn't seem to notice. She's used to it. 

I'm not, mostly because I do not know the man who is buried there. I mean, I have a vague memory of him but only that and well, my Dad doesn't talk about his Dad much. Not like Mum with her Dad. So I never got the chance to know about him from stories- only what my Mum tells me and she always talks more of Grandma than Granddad. He's a figure on paper but not real to me like my other grandparents.

Like Dad, whose name it was I saw on that grave. 

Monday, 6 April 2015

Romeo and Juliet

No, not my budgies but apparently my parents? It seems my parent's marriage has more than one version of a Romeo and Juliet story, something I found out today. Minus the dying at the end. There's no dying. Just a bit of feuding.

First, the story I know so well is that my parents come from different religions. Dad's Catholic, Mum is Church of England (so Protestant). Neither are practicing but both have (had) mothers who are more religious than their children. So while neither family disagreed with them getting married, when it came to picking a church for the wedding well... It got complicated. Both mothers refused to set foot in the other's church.

It was solved with a deal, that my parents would marry in my mother's church and christen any kids in my father's. From what I had always heard, this was the biggest issue regarding setting up the wedding and was solved with a minimum of feuding.

But now I found out there was more feuding than this. Completely unrelated but still feuding.

Firstly, some family relations- My mother has 3 brothers, the oldest of whom is my Uncle P. My father has like, a whole bunch of uncles, the one I know most about being my (Great) Uncle T. These are the main players in this feud.

So before the wedding- but after my parents had met, my Uncle T and his brother tried to go into business together. They set it up and needed a loan. This is where my Uncle P came into it. He was a bank manager at the time, in charge of the loan division.

I'm sure you can see where this is going.

Uncle T went to Uncle P's bank. A very weird thing as they didn't live in the same areas. Uncle P refused the loan and well... Uncle T didn't take it well. At all. Especially when he couldn't get a loan from anyone else as he'd been refused at the bank and his business went under, costing him a whole lot of money and his (already bad) relationship with his brother. He wasn't bankrupted but I'm told it was close.

He blamed Uncle P. Loudly. And with threats of suing. Uncle P thought him an idiot and hot head, which he wasn't shy about sharing around. Especially as Uncle P had to step out of his position for a while due to the fuss Uncle T was raising.

When my mother put the pieces together while organising the wedding and realised that hot head her brother was complaining about was the Uncle of her future husband who also wasn't pleased with this nitwit of a banker well... it wasn't a great day. From what I've heard they had to be separated at the wedding so they didn't even see another. Everyone had to keep silent about it (which is why I've not heard about it before my Mum mentioned that my Uncle P ruined my Uncle T today) and we've never had a family thing with both sides of the family there.

So just when I thought I'd heard all of Mum's family history stories, she comes up with this really interesting one! And okay, the Romeo and Juliet comparison is reaching but idk about what other romance story fits.