Unintened Victims

Those who have read My blog may have noticed that I talk a lot about the grandparents on My Father's side.  I haven't really talked about My Grandparents on My mother's side.  There is a reason for that, and it is one of My biggest shames.  I tell this so people will understand that why this happened is not their fault, but Mine in My pursuit to be loved.

 
When My parents started going through the divorce proceedings, one thing became clear to those witnessing it (but not Me at the time, I was just struggling to comprehend how much My world was changing) was that a lot of people were testifying on behalf of My father... including relatives of My mother.  While I am not 100% sure, I believe that included her parents.  My mother, being the petty vindictive person she is, decided to make them pay for this transgression dearly.  And she used her ultimate weapon:
 
Her children.
 
As I have Mentioned in past posts, while people tried to keep Me having an even keel, I still was willing to do anything for the love and acceptance of My mother.  And she knew this and exploited it for maximum effect.  When My brother and I would go visit her during weekends, should would work on Me, using all sorts of tricks to manipulate Me into doing her bidding.  (I cannot tell how well it worked on My brother, so I am not including him anymore in this post.)  When I did as she asked, she would shower Me with love and praise, which I hungrily devoured.  It started out with small things, like details about what My dad was doing, and slowly worked up to bigger things.  Eventually it got to where she had Me believing how her parents were doing horrible things to her and how much they didn't care for Me, implying I should avoid them.
 
And to My eternal shame, I ended up doing just that
 
My dad tried to counteract it, by encouraging Me to visit them whenever we were in Ballard, but ultimately they had no one to counteract the vitriol My mother poisoned Me with like My dad did with his parents.  They were bad people, because My mother, who loved Me so, told Me this. But she never outright said to shun them.  She was far too cunning for that.  She would let Me fill in the blanks.  So for at least a decade I would not associate with them.  It wasn't until I finally realized what happened that I realized what I had done.
 
And it was what I had done.  As much as I would like to claim it was the manipulations of My mother (and probably be justified saying so) I ultimately was the one who chose the path I took.  I did it for what I thought were the right reasons, but that turned out to not be true.  I know they understand what happened and have forgiven Me, but I still have not fully forgiven Myself.
 
These days I try and talk to them when I can, but between My dislike of talking on phones and life, I don't do as well as I could.  Part of it is also My nature to not be the closest of people to be around, another result of My childhood.  But I do try.  But any communication I get with them now is always bittersweet, because there will always be a part of Me who mourns what should have been. 

Who mourns not having great tales of Me and them. 

Who mourns for the loss in My life I created.

The truth about Wyverns

Over the holiday season, in the midst of receiving ornaments for My first tree, I received a care package from a person I consider close to My heart.  Amidst the ornament and edible delicacies was a heavy item wrapped up.  I opened it and stared, dumbstruck.

It was a pewter figure of a wyvern perched on a tree.  That may not seem like a big deal, but it hit Me deep.  Once again the wyvern has entered My life.  I told Her it was strange she picked that specific creature, since I rarely-if ever-have talked about its significance.  She told Me that it called to Her, that it just seemed right.  Teary eyed, I thanked her profusely and promised to tell Her the significance of this.  A couple days ago I kept My word.  And in this I decided to share it with others, to maybe lift some spirits.

Let Me tell You a tale...
 
For most of My life one of My favorite mythical creatures has been the dragon in all its incarnations.  I poured over the old D&D monster manuals, fantasy books, and mythology guides.  Two of My favorite movies are the Rankin-Bass The Hobbit and Dragonslayer.  I would draw them whenever I could.
 
One day, nearly 30 years ago, My Grandfather was talking to Me and said He needed My help for a contest He was going to enter.  The question needing answering was what was a wyvern?  I quickly gave him an answer about how it had two legs and wings, unlike the traditional four legged and winged type, and how it had a distinctive barbed tail.  He thanked Me  for the information.  A few weeks later He came by to tell Me he had won based on My answer and took Me out for ice cream as a thank you.
 
(A small aside:  all these years later I now realize that there most likely wasn't a contest and that He did this to make Me feel just a bit more important in life.  For a young kid whose parents were going through a REALLY messy divorce and feeling lost in the world, it was the exactly right thing to do...)
 
A couple years later, I was reading the Piers Anthony Xanth book Centaur Isle (I know, I know-I didn't have a discerning tastes as I do now) and noticed the cover featured the artist's interpretation of wyverns on it.  Inspired, I took a sheet of paper and My little collection of projector markers (it was My preferred artistic medium at the time) and drew one of them.  When I saw My Grandfather a few days later I presented it to Him.  He loved it and said He was going to hang it up at their house.  I imagined it on their refrigerator or pinned to the office corkboard. My Grandparents did a bit better than that...
 
The next time I went to visit My Grandparents I they opened the front door and on the wall visible directly behind it was My picture.  They (I believe My Grandmother) had cut it and My signature out matted and framed it.  This was an amazing honor for Me.  That picture stayed up there past My Grandfather's death until My Grandmother sold the house.  And when she moved she hung it prominently in the living room.
 
A few years ago she was diagnosed with the onset of dementia.  When it got bad enough to warrant moving Her to a private care facility I was given the picture.  It now hangs proudly in My dining room.  I get to look at it every day and think of how truly amazing and caring they were to Me and how I should try My best to carry on with their ways...

PS- The wyvern figure I received?  It sits on My office desk where I can see it every day, where it brings a smile to My face.