a year-and-a-half ago, i made a very difficult decision to wait on my mother to contact me on her own. she hasn't. and i'm still catching wrath for both from within and out.
perhaps i'm wrong. but i believe i am right and until someone can prove me otherwise, i'll stick to my decision.
my aunt sent me another e-mail in response to the one i posted on here. she wasn't happy but i don't care. as you'll read under comments, i believe it is only because she doesn't want the bad side of my family exposed.
what most people don't realize is that i'm not trying to hurt anyone. i'm not name-calling or throwing blame. what i'm doing is defending my position on what i believe has always been a dysfunctional relationship and one that i want repaired so badly.
like i've said before, i'm in the middle. i waiting to be met there.
the e-mail follows:
Mathew,
I am almost speechless at all the garbage I read on your blog. First let me say that I do not appreciate your publishing my email for all your friends and so-called admirers to read. Had I wanted it open to the public, I would have put it there myself. How very convenient of you to block those who want to post anonymously, especially since those are the negative ones! I don't know why people won't sign their names, but you certainly know me well enough to know that the last thing I am is a coward. I'm proud to say that I inherited this trait for your other grandmother.
Along those lines, I hope you don't believe that Mrs. Palmer was the least bit a better person than my mother. On the contrary, Waiver had a few more skeletons in her closet than my mother, yet she had the audacity to talk about Kay's parenting skills (or lack as she put it). Before you're so quick to criticize Kay and paint your grandmother as an angel, I suggest you leave it alone, or I will enlighten you otherwise. Enough said.
I've heard enough about your poor, pitiful life and your caustic remarks about your mother and the rest of our family to make me sick. This only proves further that you are a very disturbed young man who desperately needs psychiatric help, and the pathetic thing is you are so arrogant and self centered that you don't even realize it.
The hurtful remark about Greg is unforgivable. What would make you say that he's mentally retarded? Greg's disabilities are the direct result of the same auto accident that killed his brother, put John in intensive care for months, and left him there for many months. Also, two brain surgeries added to his problems. But how would you know because you WERE NOT THERE!!
You seem to be quite adept at forming opinions when you don't know what you're talking about, and your comment about John not being raised by Kay is a case in point. I won't go into the details about John's upbringing, but be assured that, once again, you're giving your opinion about something you know ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about. As the journalist wannabe that you are, you should know to get your facts straight.
As far as your comments about Dave are concerned, I suppose he chose the Army to escape the horrible living conditions at home (you know - 10 & 15 people living there at once, NO family vacations, etc.)----- but wait, Dave was the golden child who got everything he wanted, so why would he want to leave home? Scratch that one.
Leah did graduate from high school and is enrolled in classes at Thomas Tech. Last I heard, she was doing great. And, she is living alone, supporting herself with two jobs - one at Mitchell Co. Equipment and the other at Georgia Power. Another case of your not having the facts.
I could go on and on, but why? With all of this said, please take your inflated ego, your biting criticisms, your lies and gross misconceptions and be content with the decision you have made. Should anything happen to your mother, I have been asked that you not be notified, and I will honor that request.
Betty
P.S. I'm checking into doing my own "Dear Betty" column - for those who care. Thanks for the idea.
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1 comment:
aunt betty:
being speechless about all the garbage you read on my blog means only one thing: you're speechless about my life. perhaps things have changed since the many nights that we sat on the phone for hours or in your home discussing these exact things. certainly history hasn't changed. i haven't. it must be you.
speaking of changing, your comments in this most recent e-mail about my grandmother are stark compared to your e-mail of saturday. nana was an equal to nannie; it was a figure of speech that i used to describe nannie, which wasn't intended to be offensive to anyone. you know how i cared about nana. i was in no way putting her below anyone.
aunt betty, we all have skeletons. if you'd like to tell me all the bad things, which i believe, if any, would be very few, about my nannie, go ahead. you stated in your prior e-mail that your comments were because you loved me and weren't intended not to hurt me. i guess that pertained only to that e-mail. i'd be ashamed of myself if were you to even ponder telling someone such terrible things about someone whom they loved and is now dead.
as far as blocking the anonymous poster, had you comprehended what i wrote you'd know that no one was blocked. i have my blog set up in such a way now that if you do choose to respond, you must first sign up with me. that way, i'll know who is commenting. i'm certain you would agree that a stranger is not someone of whom you need to prove yourself, although i don't believe i have to prove myself to anyone.
i've taken the liberty to send you an invitation to join, if you'd like.
it's obvious you've heard enough about my life. you didn't listen or, in my opinion, care that first time you heard it. the quality time we spent together and the feelings of peace when i talked to you was all in vain, i assume.
i've sought psychiatric counseling, aunt betty. i'll be the first to admit that. i had to have it in college. you'll remember those times i called you then, too, to vent that my mother seemed to have no interest in my life. remember, it was during that time, also, that my mother wouldn't even mail a birthday card to me; jennifer had to pick it up from her house in september, two months later.
it was also during that time that my counselor suggested i talk to my mother and explain how i felt. i talked to my mother, taking his advice. i poured my heart out to her, which is when she suggested i move back home so she could help me "any way she could." ever wanting to please her and gain her love, i did. remember, it was then that things went right back to the way they've always been.
maybe greg is not clinically mentally retarded but we all know he's not all there, no offense intended. if that's not the case, that's what i've always heard. "greg was different." each time my mom pulled charles off of him after almost beating him to a pulp, that is what she told charles. you said many times i didn't know what i was talking about yet you forget that although i'm distant now, i did grow up in the same household.
the journalist comment stings, aunt betty. are you not proud of me anymore? what's changed? remember, it was you who, in college, congratulated me on my state award. it was your sister who abruptly told me she had another call and had to go when i tried to tell her about the award. remember?
dave chose the army, i'm certain, to be bigger than what was expected of any of us. perhaps he chose the best route as his life has been absolutely "heroic." perhaps that's why he's going through his second divorce, or so i've heard. that was just an "off-the-record" comment, though, that i heard from someone to which my mother spoke.
i do know what leah is doing. in fact, i got a long e-mail from leah yesterday. she's doing very well for herself and i am proud of her. it seems she's the only one who has attempted to maintain contact.
i'll take my ego, inflated or not, and be content with my decision. i have been for a while, which is what you found if you spent more than five minutes on my blog. however, there have been no lies nor gross misconceptions... i have put my experience growing up in words.
it's probably that you don't want to be embarassed to be a part of this. in the confines of your home, it was alright to discuss my mother and her lack of parenting skills. it was alright for you to remind me time and time again that she "was not brought up that way." it was alright for you and i to ponder ways to get her out of the house and away from charles, an abusive husband.
but in the open, you're the number one p.r. person for my mother. you're still fighting her battles while she sits aside and gets sympathy.
what all of you fail to realize is that i love my mother beyond belief. she, not my grandmother - your mother nor nannie - is the greatest woman who has ever walked this earth. that's not a figure of speech. i want to be in her life and have her in mine.
i also want her, though, to acknowledge my feelings. acknowledge that there were things that were wrong. show me why or why i shouldn't have certain feelings. i want to feel like she cares about me. i want to know that she loves me. i want her to quit telling me that she treated us all the same and realize that she didn't.
i've grown up a lot, aunt betty, whether you believe it. i've cried myself to sleep. i've written her notes that i've never mailed. i've dialed her number and not pressed send. and i've prayed. god is tired of me from the praying i've done. but none of it has brought my mother into my life.
it's very humanly possible for me to drive to sale city to see my mother. i could have this past week. but there'd be nothing different. charles and his rampages would still be there. i'd be questioned about everything in my life. i'd be reminded - like you so kindly did - that i shouldn't jump from job-to-job.
but i'd never be asked if i were happy. i wouldn't be asked if there were anything she could do to help me be happy. i'm sure she and charles would jump on my back about the blazer. it'd all be the same and i'm tired of that same. i want a family that loves me, not shuns me and treats me like you guys do.
if my mother has asked you not to contact me should anything happen to her, so be it. i've always tried my best to honor her requests and that one will be no different.
if i can ask you one favor, it is this: recall the days and nights we talked. recall what i said to you. recall your responses. then re-read your e-mails and see if those conversations and your responses are similar. i'm sure you'll find they're not because i already realize mine are much different.
i love you, aunt betty, and i love my mother. i'm living my life so that i wake up happy and go to be no differently. sometimes it works while others it does not.
i've not given up on my mother, nor will i ever. i'm waiting.
mathew
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