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((written at work, 02/23/07))



So. I'm sitting here, alone, at work. I'm watching My Big Fat Greek Wedding. And, once again, realizing just how fucked up my family got somewhere along the line.



Not making the connection? I don't blame ya.



See...in the movie, Toula's big, Greek family seems kind of...insane. There are cousins up the yin-yang; her father is obsessed with being Greek and uses Windex as a cure all; and her grandmother seems to live in her own time zone.



But.



As Toula says at the end of the movie:

My family is big and loud, but they're my family. We fight and we laugh, and, yes, we roast lamb on a spit in the front yard. And wherever I go, and whatever I do, they will always be there.



So. Long story sh--well...long story slightly less long, once upon a time, I had that kind of family. OK, so they weren't Greek. But, back in the day, if someone got married, everybody and their uncle's mother's brother's second cousin's sister's boyfriend's hairdresser's great aunt was there. When someone was pregnant, the shower (and subsequent baptism) as nearly as big as the wedding had been.



At one point, Toula says she has 27 cousins. If I'm not leaving anyone out, I have 66. Mom has 5 sibs, and Dad is one of 11. That's 15 aunts and uncles. Granted, my father has buried 3 of his siblings. But that still leaves 12.



I remember a day when all 12 of them were at least somewhat present in my life. Hell...I remember a day 14 of them were. (I never met my Uncle Bobby...he died in a car accident long before I was even thought of.) But anyway, back when I was a kid, we had huge-ass parties, the house and/or yard full of people. I remember noisy rooms, full of laughter. Hell...my dad's family could even turn a funeral into a party. I remember Christmases and birthdays; Thanksgivings, Easters, and Halloweens; graduations, First Communions, and Confirmations; day after day, years upon years full of daytimes and sunsets and cookouts and family reunions and so many more endless memories.



And I wonder...when I'll finally forget.



When I'll finally forget what it's like to have a big, crazy family.



When I'll forget what it felt like to have that big, crazy family turn their backs, walk away, and close the door in our faces.



Of those 66 cousins, there are maybe 7 I see regularly, and 3 I talk to on the internet. Of those 12 aunts and uncles, I see two of them somewhat regularly. Two. Out of twelve. And ten cousins out of 66.



And time goes by, and I tell myself it's no big deal. I say I don't care.



Did I mention I'm not a good liar, not even to myself?



No big deal my ass. And, like it or not, I unfortunately do still care.



I'm not sure how the hell my parents came from their families. My parents are both loving, caring people who would do anything to help the people they care about. So tell me how they came form the same stock that created the selfish, ignorant people I've watched walk out of my life. Other than the 2 aunts I do see, my mom's sibs mainly have their heads so far up their asses they need a colonoscopy to check their watches. My dad's siblings are still all dangling, twisted, from the strings of their puppet-master matriarch. Once she's finally dead, I fucking DARE any of them to even try to come back into my life. Oh, fuck, no. Don't fucking treat me like shit, and fucking desert my family, and think you're gonna just fucking waltz on back in, cause, honey, let me tell you something: You wanna fuck with me? You go right on ahead, take your best shot. But you fuck with my family, and you had BEST hope you never pass my way again, I'll fuckin' make you regret having made it out of the womb alive. I don't start shit with anyone, but if someone starts shit with me, you can be DAMN sure I'm gonna finish it. And from my perspective, all the "famliy" who willingly walked out of our life are guilty of having started shit, and of having hurt my family. So, the gloves are off, make one false move and I'm gonna be in your face faster than you can even blink.



In the meantime, I get to spend another night, a freakin mass of agitation, depression and anger, all packed into one huge knot that has once again taken up residence between my shoulder blades.



And now, I've got a few lyrics from random songs adding to the knot.



So, here they are. Enjoy.



...If I get it all down on paper

It's no longer inside of me

Threatnin' the life it belongs to...



...Fuck you

And your untouchable face

Fuck you

For existing in the first place

Who am I

That I should be vying for your touch?

I said, who am I?

Bet you can't even tell me that much...



...You're so vain

I bet you think this song is about you,

Don't you?...



...Your face, it haunts

My once pleasant dreams

Your voice, it chased away

All the sanity in me...

Dear Brit,



I can't believe how fast time slips through our fingers. Has it really been almost a year already? It just doesn't seem possible.



I still have yet to completely wrap my mind around what happened. I don't think I ever would have expected you to actually take that final step. I still even feel partially responsible for your death, like I failed you somehow.



I wish I knew if you really understood how much you helped me. All the times in the middle of the night on the computer, when it somehow seemed that if I was having a rougher time with things, you were in a better mindset, and vice versa. Funny how that worked, wasn't it? I remember how you'd get me talking about something lighthearted, like my animals, or music, or some tv show or something, and we'd just talk and talk about everything and nothing, and suddenly I'd look & see the sun was rising, and we'd made it through another night.



I wonder what was going through your mind about this time last year. Had you already decided your fate, made the final plans? I can't imagine the torment and hell you must have been going through. Having your son, your world, snatched from you had to be devastating. I only hope he does not grow up to think he was not worth fighting to stay alive for.



I don't want to sound like I'm being judgemental. I've been suicidal at times myself, as I bet you probably remember, so I'm not judging you. I just wish you could have found the strength to turn to us and let us help you. We would have done anything we could have.



Did you know that Tanya, Pam & Dylan are friends again? Your death helped bring them all back together again. We all realized just how quickly someone precious could be taken from us. And Robin...well, some people never change, I guess...Robin took off, exactly 6 months after your death. I honestly expected her to kill herself, too, but no, she just did what she always does. She ran off into the sunset looking for some fairy-tale happily-ever-after-ending, not caring who she hurt in the process. I live with Tanya & Pam now. I think of you everytime I see Cabot, who is doing well, by the way.



Well, I'm running out of things to say, so I guess all that's left is to say I still miss you. I always will. Rest peacefully.



'Til we meet again,

Kerri Lynn