|Weren't we adorable?|
I share pretty much everything on my blog, it's my space, I write what I want, and I'm lucky enough to have a readership that appreciate my honesty. But this one is a little different; I won't be regaling ridiculous things I've said due to brain fog, or telling you about how much I love a particular beauty brand...this is a truth that both my younger brother and I are feeling, have felt, are pissed off about, and I need to get it off my chest.
When I was five, my mum and, well, let's refer to him as SD, as he's not a father and certainly no dad, divorced. My brother was two at the time, and all three of us went to live with my Nan and Grandad. We had an amazing childhood, we never missed out on anything, we were spoilt, have lots of incredible memories and were loved more than two kids could ever imagine. My Grandad taught us how to ride a bike amongst many other things, my Nan showered us with attention, and my mum was and is, the best mother Darren and I could ask for.
For years we'd spend Sunday's with SD and his side of the family, and in all honesty, I don't have many memories. I know what you're thinking, I'm being a bitch, surely I can remember things. And yes, I remember stuff but nothing that made an impact on my life or changed me as a person. We went there, we played games, we had a roast dinner, we came home. We came home and spent six days with three people that shaped us, taught us, helped us become who we are.
At twelve (Daz was nine), we were lucky enough to add another parent to our life. My mum met, and years later married, one of the nicest men to exist. Tony-Pops is our dad. Whenever I refer to 'my parents' or 'my dad', I mean my step-dad, I mean Tony. He's caring, dependable and totally not funny; just the way a dad should be.
Shit went down when I was about thirteen, I'm not going into detail, but basically my brother and I became second choice to SD and his family. I have a feeling they blamed my mum but it was nothing to do with her, her children were mistreated and metaphorically ditched at the side of the road by their 'father'. My mum loves us with a passion that is so formidable if anyone abuses it she'll attack; unfortunately SD isn't/wasn't the same. After no contact with them after the 'event', my brother and I decided ties were definitely cut, and didn't hear from them in 10+ years.
Six years ago the bottom fell out of our earth when my Nan and Grandad died within six months of each other. It destroyed our family, we'll never recover, they're missed so much everyday.
My brother decided he wanted to contact SD; I didn't, I was pretty adamant that I didn't want to speak/see/know anything about them, and I wish I'd have stuck to my guns. I gave into my brother and we visited.
And that's all that has happened; we've visited. SD knows nothing about us, he could tell you my brother is obsessed with Liverpool FC and I'm disabled and sarcastic...but that's it. There's been no effort, no wanting to know anything, no random evenings out for a meal, no shit given. My brother only hears from him when it's about football, and I receive one text every six weeks making sure I'm still alive. Even when I spent three weeks in hospital, I didn't hear a thing from him.
Darren and I had a chat a couple of weeks ago and he expressed how he regretted contacting him. If we hadn't have lost our grandparents, I don't think he'd have bothered. And let's be honest, if they actually cared even the smallest amount they'd have got in touch when my Nan and Grandad passed...yeah, that fucks me off.
Anyway, my brother is much better at confrontation than I am, so he laid his thoughts/feelings out to SD, and was laughed at, told that 'life is too short', and my brother lives too far away - he lives 25 minutes away. Too far? Piss off. That was the nail in the coffin. Done.
My brother was also told that, 'it was nice seeing you again.' Not, 'we need to change this, shall we meet up once a month for a catch-up'? or 'I'll make more of an effort.' Nope, we were that quickly and easily tossed aside, once again. You make more of an effort to get shit off your shoe than he has with his children..
I find it odd, disheartening, infuriating, that he doesn't care. He missed out on so much and shall continue to do so.
Big props to my brother who was strong enough to make initial contact and even stronger for breaking it when realising that the relationship meant nothing.
I also find it really ironic that they're extremely quick to slag off other dads, but can't see that ours is a hundred times shitter. I guess it's too close to home. But for the record, HE'S A CRAP 'DAD'. A sperm donor.
To be fair, I don't really know what we expected, but we don't need any more time-wasters or acquaintances in our life. We tried. He failed.
Thankfully we had Mum, Tony-Pops, Nan and Grandad Ray. I love them all more than anything and will be forever grateful for everything.