Ding Dong...

So I found out yesterday that my grandmother is dying - please don't feel sorry for this loss in the family.  And as callous that may sound when you read the following blog you will understand why this is not a loss - but a door that is closing for our family and our time to finally heal.

My grandmother as a child seemed normal - like any grandmother I guess I could expect.  She rocked up for birthdays, was there for Christmas' and other events.  I spent time at my grandparents house on school holidays and I seemed to have what was a normal relationship.  My parents never stopped that relationship and honestly I understand why when I became for observant why they never stopped it.

Looking back now I can see what sort of horrible woman she really was - and overtime I think more and more it was never her making the effort but my grandfather.  My granddad was a loving man - he would take me to the footy, pick me up from school, take me out for outings to the beach and honestly was always there when I needed him.  He passed away before we had children - and I still wish to this day he got to meet all 3 of our children because I can honestly say he would've adored them for who they were.

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As a young girl (and we have touched how much I hated my body and what it looked like and I felt ashamed of my size).  Whilst my grandmother never made direct comments based on my weight as a young child I now look back and realise it was her actions that made her obviously uncomfortable with who I was and what I looked like.  She would always comment on my hairstyle, making sure she would change it to suit what she thought was more acceptable.  Clothes I wore she would alter without my mums knowledge - bearing in mind these clothes were all handmade by my mum.  As I got older the comments would start.  Only small ones - but comments like puppy fat, baby fat, growing into your body.  I would get sly comments about my weight here or there.  As a young teenager we all know how much we take those comments to heart.  I was always a bit more plump and yes eventually I did grow into my body but for her it was never good enough - I needed to be that little bit slimmer.

I remember being there at my grandfathers funeral and her comments were "Tamara, do you really need to eat that?"

Whilst at this age I was married and a little more stronger that comment still stings.  All those comments sting. 

That apparently I was so big I was unlovable - it's not something you want to hear during the hardest parts of you developing life.

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My grandmother loved boys - in fact she preferred boys to girls and it became more and more apparent as I grew older.  I have two cousins - girls - the last time I saw them I would've been 22 - at  my grandfathers funeral if I walked past them in a shop I wouldn't even know who they were...  they were always more athletic and more socially acceptable when it came to size, but I know they would of wondered what the hell they did wrong to have a grandmother who couldn't give a shit about them.  Us 3 were always the forgotten souls of the grandchildren - my brother whilst wasn't treated much different to me I suspect is lucky he was a boy.  He was chosen for holidays, outings, lunches and other things here and there.  Memories stick with me and I still remember tagging along to sizzler for lunch with my grandparents and brother only because I asked if I could go, I wasn't invited.  My grandmother almost sighed in disappointment I was going. 
I did get to go to one family reunion as a young girl with my grandparents - but I was shoved off to family I didn't know when push came to shove.  I was only needed when my grandmother wanted to make appearances.

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When we had children I knew I wouldn't have those awesome photos of a doting Great Grandmother holding her beautiful great-grandchildren.  Instead I got harsh words and memories that are tainted and cruel.  My oldest didn't cop it has harshly and being the first and only great-grandchild for her she somewhat made an effort for her.  She cuddled her and fed her.  I honestly thought FINALLY I have thawed her frozen heart.  I almost had a bonding experience because she also suffered horrific morning sickness like myself.  But alas that bonding and warmness soon buried deep when our second was born...

My grandmother is a woman of harsh words and a mean tongue.  My daughter has a unique name -not uncommon but it's a name that you wouldn't have 2 of in the same year level.  But it suits her - it has that uniqueness that makes her... her

But because my grandmother didn't like it she refused to say it - yep... she referred to this beautiful little baby as that - the baby.  Or the girl baby.  It was horrible - to hear that.  She couldn't even give a birthday card because it pained her too much to write her name!  It was at this point in my adult life I thought "F*** YOU" .  This woman doesn't deserve to be in my life - in my children's lives and she certainly doesn't deserve to be known to them.

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She's only met my youngest maybe 3 times in his short 5 years on this earth.  I refused to allow such a bitter woman into my son's life and touch his soul.  He deserved more - and it was at my Dad's funeral my thoughts and feelings were cemented.

When she approached me to offer her "condolences" no hugs or embrace but a "I'm sorry" she asked the following question... "Where's Julie, the other one and Ben?" (names protected for personal reasons) ... she couldn't even say my daughters name on my Dad's funeral.  I replied of course in a firm tone "There's Julie, there's Ben and right there is Tabitha..."  she didn't bat an eyelid at my tone and that was the last time I have spoken to her.  I never received anymore birthday cards, Christmas and if I did they were returned to sender. 

She had no right into our lives anymore....


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So I found out yesterday she's slowing dying - you'd think this news would offer me some closure and peace within myself.  But it's made me wonder if I should go to the funeral when it happens.  I don't want to go because to me a funeral is a celebration of life - the only thing I'm grateful for is the fact she gave me my Mum - a Mum who has become a Nanna that I never had (well, I had a lovely warm Nanna but she passed away well before I had children).  But I can't sit there and put on a face act like what she has done to not only me but everyone I love is OK.  Because it's not.  I can't even forgive her!  She doesn't deserve forgiveness not from me and certainly not from my children.

I often get jealous when I see photos of babies or young children enjoying being with their Great Grandparents.  To know they had that opportunity to have that love.  I am grateful that mine have my mum - who's nothing like her own.  The cycle was broken because my mum was able to find someone like my Dad love and support her.  Because it showed her what a real mum is - not that cold woman she had.

Children deserve family that love them unconditionally - somewhere they feel protected and nurtured and warm.  Where they don't feel like they need to compete for someones attention or love.  Where no favourites are shown  - because children notice that - I certainly did!  And even though as a child I didn't see it as an adult I saw how my grandmother treated me different and how I wasn't what she wanted.  I wasn't her ideal!

One day I will become a grandmother (well, I hope LOL) and having that relationship with my own has made me realise how much I will never be like that - that each child I have and each grandchild I will eventually have will have equal places in my heart and soul.  And I could never make someone feel unloved or unwanted like that "witch" made me eventually feel.