The sins of our fathers...

You know, I think all parents learn from THEIR parents things to do and how to handle situations. Sometimes you learn how TO do it, sometimes it’s how NOT to do it. By and large my parents were wonderful. I would have requested less fighting, and probably a little lower expectation of perfection at times. But, my parents did some great things for me. They never allowed me to quit anything, and they made sure I was dedicated to everything I did. School- nothing less than an A was acceptable. Sports- I was the first kid there and the last to leave each practice, and I’m probably the only one practicing on an “off” day (hey, the coach’s kid gets no breaks!). Dance- I had to practice my routines on the days that I didn’t have class. The results? I graduated with over a 4.0 and attended college on a full scholarship; I played college softball and received a partial softball scholarship. And I learned what dedication is, and to keep on going when you feel like giving up. They also taught me fierce loyalty, and to stand up for what I believe in. These are things I want to teach my kids.

However, there was one person in my life who was never satisfied. I was reminded of this last night when talking with my aunt about other things, and she brought up my grandmother. Nana was one of those women who, to a child, had it all together. She was somewhat of an enigma; she never had grey hair thanks to Clairol, she worked and traveled for work a lot (which was definitely not the norm for someone in their 50s and 60s), she dressed impeccably from such ritzy places like Schwabe May, Neiman Marcus, Speigal, Talbots, etc. She wore beautiful suits with perfectly matching suede pumps, and beautiful expensive jewelry, and carried designer purses. In my mind she was rich and worldly. She had opinions on everything and stuck to them no matter what. I thought that someday I would be just like her.

But she was a stubborn woman who had a chip on her shoulder because she married young, and had babies (like you were supposed to in the 40s), and never got the education she desired. She also had a chip on her shoulder regarding my dad (and therefore my sister and I) because my dad went to live with his grandparents due to his older sister’s illness and subsequent death and was basically spoiled rotten there. Add all this up- it becomes a woman who could be bitter and nasty, and cutting in her remarks, and slow to give love and acceptance. As a child I didn’t understand it, and I loved her fiercely, and wondered why she didn’t share that. She never seemed proud of her only two grandchildren, and constantly commented that where we lived, we’d never become anything. When I went to college, I’d never amount to anything because it (at the time) was a college, not a university. Never mind that academically Concord is the highest rated school in WV. She never visited; we had to come to her. She never called us to see how we were doing. She never initiated any contact at all; it was all initiated by my dad, and most of the time it was more like we were putting her out by driving 2 ½ hours to visit. Still, I sought her acceptance and love.

Fast forward- she’s finally proud of something I’ve done- I’m in law school and marrying, then married to, a lawyer. She tells all her friends. Finally, I think. I’ve done it, I’ve broken the shell. We actually became closer as at times after the death of my grandfather I’d stop by on my way to and from Morgantown. We’d chat, sometimes she’d cook for me (another amazing skill she had). Then she got sick, and eventually was sent to Morgantown to the hospital. I visited her almost daily, sitting in her hospital room for hours so she wouldn’t be alone til my aunt could make it after work. She promised me a fairly large sum of money at my law school graduation, and told every single doctor and nurse that I was in law school and would be graduating in May. I really thought I had finally made it.

Now I find that the entire time I was spending sitting in that hospital room, and eventually watching her slowly die, she was plotting to leave most of her estate to my uncle and the daughter that he eventually gave up his rights to, who now is probably about 6 years old. My grandmother never really knew her, but yet she wanted to set up a college fund for her. Where was my college fund? Where was Alaina’s? This is a woman who kept over 100k in her CHECKING account. She could have literally written a check for my entire law school debt; yet she never even considered it. She was going to give this unknown granddaughter the gift that should have been mine if it were to be given at all. The same woman who never gave a gift except at Christmas, and for my wedding gave me a clock. It had special meaning to me, yes, but it was a clock nonetheless, while she was paying cash for new Cadillacs. She was actually plotting to give money to the daughter of a son who never once visited her in the hospital, while I sat there nearly every day. And the saddest part? She died the day before my law school graduation, so I never “made it.” And I hate it that this woman can still make me feel not good enough, even though she’s been dead almost 4 years.

So, if you’re still reading, I’ll apologize for this rant. But I want to make these promises to my kids: I will never show favoritism to you, I know what that does to a child, even if she’s 28 or he’s 58. I will never make you think you’re not good enough, as long as I know you’re doing your best. I will never criticize your choices if they are made responsibly. I will give you, and your kids, all that I have in me, both materially and emotionally. I will never make you work for my love.

Rest in peace, Nana. You’ve taught me a lot. And after all this, I still love you, and maybe now you’re proud. But I really don’t care.