Rage, Fury, and Family

First, if this post offends anyone, I am sorry that they feel offended. This post is going to be intensely personal, and there is a good chance that I might be unfair. As a general rule, I try to be fair, even handed, and a frequent devil's advocate. Here, I make no such promises.

I have had issues with my father's wife for years. By years, I mean decades. Plural. That's okay, people are what they are, I usually have the patience of Job, and I was raised not to talk back. I've been so adaptable, that for almost 30 years, I've lived two distinctly differently lives, in which I am completely different people. In some circles, all I wanted was quiet, so I often pulled back, and was most alone in a crowded room. Later in life, I've seen the negative side effects there. Shown pictures of extended family, I'm hard pressed to identify most of them. Awkward.


It's exhausting, and it sucks. More importantly, I'm done with it. From here on out, I am living my life, one life, with my best friend/wife, friends, family, and whoever else is willing to be a part of it.

That phrasing sounds odd, I know. But there is a reason for it. There was a path that led to this point.

Let's rewind the clock to my brother's wedding. It was a beautiful, elegant, impeccably orchestrated affair. The bride was radiant, my brother a king in his court, all was better than one could have hoped for. I was the best man, which inspired no small amount of terror. An honor it may be, but that meant that public speaking was involved. I would rather shave my chest with a cheese grater than speak in public. Yes, you are welcome for the visual. Moving on.

My stepmother has never been able to hold her tongue when it comes to my mother. My mother has been disparaged at family gatherings, directly to me, etc, etc. One moment, years ago, when I gently asked for my mother not to be insulted, I was quickly dressed down, and read the riot act for suggesting what my father's wife should or should not say in her own house.

The issues I have had with her are legion, but this one fills me with cold fury. I know, and always have, that these two should never be in the same square mile, if only for my sanity, and to prevent my incarceration. When I was younger and dumber, I was engaged to another woman. The most frustrating part of the wedding planning process? Trying to determine who could be near whom, and if there would be any trouble.

That chapter closed, mercifully, and I found my soul mate. As we started to plan a wedding, the same issue came up. Call me old school, but anyone confronting my mother has a fight coming to them. It might not be right, nor rational, but there it is. With that in mind, we started to look at destination weddings. Distance could be a great equalizer. Lower attendance + distance = less chance for conflict.

Well, the best thing happened. We eloped. When asked by my father much later if an issue with my stepmother was the reason for doing it the way we did, I obfuscated. I said it was a concern, irrational as it may be, but not the reason. Well, it's not a total lie. It's not the reason we eloped, but it might be in the top 3.

Might? Christ, I'm a liar. Anyway...I went to both sides of the family before my brother's wedding, and made a simple wish clear. All I wanted was for both sides to coexist for a couple of hours. I even went so far as to threaten my mother with a ban on future grandchild visitation if she started anything.

Everything was set, and was going so well. Relatives from both sides of my family were chatting, catching up, and generally being pleasant. I was running around like a maniac, checking on people, babysitting where needed, and saw that it was working. I allowed myself to hope.

I'm a f'n idiot. In a quiet moment, my stepmother approached my mother and gleefully got in a passive aggressive, snarky crack. The crack wasn't even that bad, for all that could have been said. But it was made.

What kind of person risks ruining a wedding for a small minded verbal riposte? Did alcohol play a factor? It doesn't really matter. The only thing I have ever wanted was for this to go well, and this event nearly ruined my evening.

There was still a speech to give, and I was not going to cause a scene. Ever try to hold a microphone when all you really want to do is bounce it off someones head? Despite myself, I didn't totally screw up the speech. The night went on, again, magnicently, and time went forward.

So here I am, furious with my stepmother for what happened, reawakening everything that's gone before, yet trying to understand the why.

Why would someone risk ruining a wedding? Is it possible that she thought she'll never encounter my mother again? That this was the last chance to get a shot in? Hmm.

Earlier, I mentioned living two lives. For years, I have had two separate families, two Christmases, multi Easters, twin Thanksgivings. Hell, I even had two different wedding receptions. Those days are done. I'm too tired, too pissed off, too cranky to keep up the bullshit.

When my wife and I finish the house, there will be one housewarming party if we choose to have one. If we have a child, there will be one christening. I will not agonize over who has the ability to behave. My mother is part of my life, and always will be. This means she will be part of the landmark events in my life.

People can choose to understand that, and act accordingly, or they can choose not to be a part of my life. I'm so filled with fucking rage right now that I really don't care.

This is the beginning of a tirade, and not very well written. For that, my apologies. More rage will follow, I just cannot see straight or type well at the moment, let alone form cogent thoughts.