Family

If you have a family that is more supportive than dysfunctional, consider yourself lucky. Many of us come from families that are for the most part supportive units that when the going gets rough they come out and pitch in. Other's are not so lucky. I come from a very dysfunctional one.

Recently a member of my extended family passed. This was the only aunt on my fathers side. Although she was my god mother, we really had no relationship, and if we ever did it was when I was very small. Our families used to get together when my Grandmother was alive, as my father and his brother were the only children she had. I remember my cousins coming from Toronto a couple of times a year, for one special occasion or another, and we all seemed to interact without difficulty. This all changed when my Grandmother died.

My Grandmother was my hero. Before her death she was the closest person I had in my life. I was the only grand daughter she had out of the eight grandchildren, and this alone made me special in her eyes. She used to introduce me to her friends that way, "this is the one and only granddaughter I have, and she sure is special." This always made me feel important, and that created the bond that the two of us had. I enjoyed everything about her, everything we did together was special and I looked forward to every minute I got alone with her. She was the curator of the museum in my home town, actually one of the founders. She loved that sort of thing. Her knowledge of the past, and the history of our town was a great passion with her. This also included a passion for discovering family history. The summer between my fifth and sixth grade she decided to take a trip, along with her cousins, to Europe to research and maybe even meet some of our family. This was a trip she planned and looked forward to for months. She asked my parents if she could take me, but they declined the offer. Their reasoning was that I was too young to appreciate a trip like that, but little did they know. I would have loved going anywhere with her. I remember when she returned how excited she was to tell us all about her discoveries along with who she met and what she saw. She was so happy. Later that same year tragedy struck my family when one morning shortly before noon my grandmother was hit by a truck in the downtown core of my home town and died from those injuries three weeks later. This even crashed my world, and to this day I have not totally gotten over it. I regret not seeing her in the hospital during those three weeks, but the rules than were that no family under 16 could go into the ICU. Stupid rule if you ask me, as I know from experience that you need that time to prepare and say what you need to say. I was not given that opportunity. I don't think I ever expressed to her in words how I felt about her, but I know in my heart she knew.

The more tragic part of this story is what happened after her death.

My uncle was a man who lived a different kind of life than we did. He worked his way through University at a time when that was very difficult and had become an engineer. This made my grandmother very proud of him, and she didn't have any problem sharing that pride she had for him with others. My Uncle grew up thought the great depression, and knew what it felt to be poor, beyond poor. I think that is what lead him to achieve an education that would afford him the life he dreamt about all those years before. He married a woman who came from great wealth and together they lived a happy prosperous life in Toronto.

After my Grandmother died my Uncle forced us all to be involved in a law suit against the company that owned the truck that hit her. He wanted us to sue them for wrongful death, which at that time no one had ever been successful at in a court of law. We all had to go to court and get up on the stand and testify about the relationship we had with my Grandmother. I remember thinking, what is this going to do, but did what was asked of me anyway. That hearing lasted a couple of days, and then it was left in the hands of the court.

While all that was going on, there was a war brewing between my father and his brother. When my Grandmother was first put into the hospital after her accident my Uncle gathered her belonging from the hospital, as they wanted to make sure they were in safe keeping. Included in that was some personal item including her wedding and engagement rings that her husband had given her. My Uncle took her belonging and never spoke about it, until he was asked after her funeral. It was a known fact that those rings were to go to my mother, who would eventually give them to me as I was the only Granddaughter. As well as the rings, my Grandmother also had an antique sway oil lamp that was to go to my Uncle. We all knew this, but for some reason my Uncle decided that was not the way it was going to be. He kept the rings and when my father asked for them, and told his brother that he got his lamp so therefor we should get the rings, my Uncle mailed a similar lamp to my father. This was what he felt was fair and equal. My parents did not feel that way, but it wasn't until my Uncle came into the store my Mother owned at the time yelling and screaming that they cut all ties with my Uncle. This caused a split in our family for several years, and by the time it was mended I was grown up and not around when visits from the Toronto family took place.

Now my Aunt has died, and my Uncle is left alone. He was married to her for 60 yrs, and really can't remember life before her. It must be a sad thing to have to go through. You would think that from this he learned what it means to have your loved ones close, and to Cherish every minute. But that is not the case with my Uncle.

My Aunt, who brought great wealth into the marriage wrote her own will. Now Ontario law states that her will means nothing if she is survived by her husband, but nonetheless she did try to make her feeling known about the things she felt were hers to decide on. My Uncle will hear nothing of it, and rather than give his kids the money his wife wanted to have has gone are hired a lawyer to stop any of it from happening.

I feel sorry for people like that. Ones who feel that what they have is so much more important than who they have. I don't think God cares what toys you have or how big your bank account is when you go home. I truly believe what matters is who you were and what you left. This is a lesson my Uncle has never learned and I really don't think at 86 is going to learn anytime soon.

I don't care about material things, and I never had. My Uncle could take those rings and keep them for all I cared, what I had was so much more important and more valuable than anything she could have left me. The memories I have of her, the time we spent together, and the was she shaped me into the person I am today is what I value and no one can take that away.

I hope anyone reading this does not wait until it's too late to realize it's the people sitting in those seats that count when you reach the end. I hope that more people can learn it's not what you take from this world that makes you successful, but what you give back.

This type of behaviour I am glad to say ends with my generation. I am raising my son to respect others, and cherish the time we have. It's not what he has that's important, it's the memories we make that will last forever.