my grandma...

I just watched a programme called broken families where, a mediator tries to heal a rift that’s going on in a family. This time, it was about two brothers who had had an argument and hadnt spoken in a year. What was the argument about? Business!! They started a business together and had a disagreement. It got me thinking. My dad’s family is a mess. And that would be a major understatement! There is always a fight, everyone is always suspicious of the other, or jealous, or competing. Always something. Their father passed away a number of years ago. Their mother is alive. She used to fuel fights. Right now, I think she’s decided to give up on life and is waiting to die. It’s a sad thing to say, but I don’t really consider her my grandma even though she is the only living grandparent I have. I don’t blame her for giving up on life, but I do blame her for a lot of other things. It actually feels quite nice to be letting it out as I sit here and write about it. My grandpa fell in love with her when he was in his 20’s and she was only 14. He promised he would marry her and had to go away to sort out some stuff. I guess she didn’t believe him, who would at the age of 14 anyway, I couldn’t even finish my homework at that age, forget marriage plans. Anyway, he returned and found her with another man. My grandpa being who he is, fought for her and wouldn’t leave her alone till she was his….which she did become. My grandpa didn’t have a happy childhood and was in the war. He went through torture as a prisoner of war. He believed ever so strongly in corprol punishment and almost no belief if any in education. He drank like there was no tomorrow and hit his wife constantly, not to mention his children.- All five of them. No matter what he went through in his life, it gave him no right to treat his family like that. But those were his issues. I put myself in my grandma’s shoe’s and ask myself what I would have done if I were her. I know for sure I would never stand around as I watched and heard the cries of my 6 year old daughter being whipped with a hippo skin whip for being a typical 6 year old. I know that I would never tell my 18 year old son who’s father had kicked him out of home to leave before his father came back. I know that I would not have let my 14 year old son be pulled out of school by his father because he thinks he’s too stupid to be in school. I know one shouldn’t pass judgment unless you’ve walked in a persons shoes. I know that its hard for some women to leave a man who’s beating on her – and there are many. But I also know that there aren’t too many who stand by and watch things like these done to their children. I also don’t think I would fuel sibling rivalry, especially that of my own children. I remember being in the car with my grandma and two of my cousins (her favorite grandsons) and watching as she gave them sweets and left my brother and I out. I remember asking mum why. I also remember realising at the end of my big 16th birthday party…”oops, grandma isnt here…oh well, not like she cares”. Its sad really. I respect my grandmother not because of who she is, but simply because she’s older than I am. My grandma never held me in her lap, my grandma has never told me a story, my grandma didn’t teach me how to knit, my grandma has given me nothing. All apart from the will to never be like her.