Nov 2014
(I)
My mom once kicked a hole in the wall as a way to threaten me.
Any minute, it feels like my mom could toss out all her marbles & shove a pillow in her mother's face.
Sometimes my entitled Grandma has no idea what her name is,
so she wouldn't know what the **** is happening.
Before he died, my fair-skinned grandfather tried to hide the fact that his wife would forget where she was sometimes. And as his face melted because of leukemia he also tried to hide the fact that he was a hoarder, blaming all of it on Grandma, who was also a hoarder.
There's talk amongst some of my family that Grandfather's brother, the one who went to church every Sunday and spoiled everyone in the family with copious amounts of pies, cookies and money decided to pull the breathing tubes out of his nose.
This is the same Uncle who decided that his sister, whom I used to see as a saint, shouldn't be hooked up to a machine after her stroke. My Aunt made the best pancakes, and cookies, and cakes, and sweet treats from scratch.
From my understanding, their father was a scumbag drunkaholic but their mother was the church going working type who had a way with dogs. She's the stuff of those walking uphill in the snow to and from school with one boot legends.
(II)
My Father used to be a dreamer. Now he sleeps with the TV on blaring either CNN or Fox News, sometimes in a buzzy drunken chainsaw snoring kind of sleep that's only awoken in a panicked restlessness wishing he had a gun under his pillow, probably because he ran away from a cult.
His mother joined a cult at a young age after years of working for the man. Now she's constantly in debt but swears that this cult is helping her change the world.
Her husband split when my dad was around three years old. He died homeless in Washington State. The day my father married my mom was the first time my dad met his step-father, also part of the cult.
My Grandmother's brothers are all the libatious kind of drinkers who all took jobs as either firemen or bank truck drivers. They're proud hellraisers.
Their father was a double-****** beer drinker on days he wasn't cheating on his wife with her sister, supposedly. He was a **** ballerina with a beer gut on the ice. Their mother was a bitter woman whose family lost all their money and would sometimes beat her husband with a skillet.
(III)
I don't wish to say much about my brother because i once found him in a compromising position in the bathroom with mom's panyhose over his head when he was around 10 or 11. So I shudder to think what weird things he's into now.
My mom once kicked a hole in the wall as a way to threaten me.
Any minute, it feels like my mom could toss out all her marbles & shove a pillow in her mother's face.
Sometimes my entitled Grandma has no idea what her name is,
so she wouldn't know what the **** is happening.
Before he died, my fair-skinned grandfather tried to hide the fact that his wife would forget where she was sometimes. And as his face melted because of leukemia he also tried to hide the fact that he was a hoarder, blaming all of it on Grandma, who was also a hoarder.
There's talk amongst some of my family that Grandfather's brother, the one who went to church every Sunday and spoiled everyone in the family with copious amounts of pies, cookies and money decided to pull the breathing tubes out of his nose.
This is the same Uncle who decided that his sister, whom I used to see as a saint, shouldn't be hooked up to a machine after her stroke. My Aunt made the best pancakes, and cookies, and cakes, and sweet treats from scratch.
From my understanding, their father was a scumbag drunkaholic but their mother was the church going working type who had a way with dogs. She's the stuff of those walking uphill in the snow to and from school with one boot legends.
(II)
My Father used to be a dreamer. Now he sleeps with the TV on blaring either CNN or Fox News, sometimes in a buzzy drunken chainsaw snoring kind of sleep that's only awoken in a panicked restlessness wishing he had a gun under his pillow, probably because he ran away from a cult.
His mother joined a cult at a young age after years of working for the man. Now she's constantly in debt but swears that this cult is helping her change the world.
Her husband split when my dad was around three years old. He died homeless in Washington State. The day my father married my mom was the first time my dad met his step-father, also part of the cult.
My Grandmother's brothers are all the libatious kind of drinkers who all took jobs as either firemen or bank truck drivers. They're proud hellraisers.
Their father was a double-****** beer drinker on days he wasn't cheating on his wife with her sister, supposedly. He was a **** ballerina with a beer gut on the ice. Their mother was a bitter woman whose family lost all their money and would sometimes beat her husband with a skillet.
(III)
I don't wish to say much about my brother because i once found him in a compromising position in the bathroom with mom's panyhose over his head when he was around 10 or 11. So I shudder to think what weird things he's into now.
A response to all the people who have told me that my family "must have done something right" because I turned out ok.
