As I was doing dishes, I was thinking about the child abuse chain that runs through my family. Well, at least on my mother's side. I got to thinking about my grandfather who sexually abused my mother, and what kind of a man he was.
I only met the old bastard once in my life when I was around seven years old. Just for the record, he only molested his daughters, but left his son alone. Anyway, I remember a little bit of his visit. But before then, he used to send me $100 a year. I never saw that money, and I have no clue what my parents did with it. But they got me excited about grampa visiting, because he apparently had money. My parents had many times before talked me into writing him a letter and asking for money. Now that I think about it, how strange!
Anyway, Grampa pedophile comes to visit and doesn't spend jack on me. My mother ordered him to take me shopping in the airport terminal, and she ordered me to bug him to buy me something. I got him to buy me a stuffed kitty. He himmed and hawed about it, but broke down. I told her how reluctant he was to buy it for me, and she was pissed off about that. A few years later, he sent each of his kids $5k. My mother let my father have it, and he blew it on crap.
My mother was by no means quiet about what he did to her and her sisters. About a year before Grampa pedophile died, he wrote a letter to each of the kids he abused, and apologized for it, and said how rotten he was as a father. I read the letter, and he apparently had also abused children in the school that he worked as a janitor.
His death was a mysterious one. He was in the hospital with parkinsons disease, but apparently died from falling out of bed. What the hell kind of way is that to die? One of my aunts said "someone must have pushed the old bastard out of bed."
My mother went to the funeral along with only one of her sisters, and her brother. I think she pretty much went for the sole purpose of seeing her family. One sister refused to attend the funeral. Nobody had any kind words to say about him. They pretty much kicked his ass into the ground and fucked off.
Fortunately, I didn't have sexual abuse passed down from either of my parents, but my mother carried on her mother's tradition of beating the shit out of her kids (me and my brother). The Watchtower only added fuel to the fire with their "use the rod" belief. Also, the elder I approached to ask for help didn't help me, but told me how wonderfully spiritual my mother was. So much for congregational love. I had nobody on my side, so I kept all my problems inside.
Now, here I am years later. My parents are more stupid than ever, and my dad is in the hole with credit card debts up to his freakin' ears. My mother is thinking of selling the house to pay off his gambling debts, which leaves me with nothing for an inheritance. I've been trying to change this, and get my mother to reconsider the plan for the house, and sign it over to me when my father cacks (if he cacks first).
However, tonight after doing some thinking, I can't help but wonder if I'm doing the same thing that she did to her father. Is the pattern repeating itself there too? Also, I have a child on the way, and I've made a solem oath to myself not to carry on the physical abuse. However, I believe I should be aware of how my parents treated me with regard to my grandfather, and prevent myself from using my child to get money out of grandma and grandpa.
Just some stuff I've been thinking about. Comments?