A Whole Heap o' Hurt

I don't get along with my parents-in-law, in fact we are estranged from A's parents completely. This is through no fault of ours but through the stubborness of two very difficult people. Hubby and I have had to fight our way through the tons of bullshit hefted our way, regularly and with a football sized shovel and still I was never good enough.

There were times he held me while I wept. You see, I get along with pretty much everybody. If I don't like you, I will still treat you with civility. I turn the other cheek so often I only have a tan on one side of my face! All I ever wanted was a M-I-L that I could share our troubles with, maybe a S-I-L that I could have coffee with and share a whole mess of cousins. Even a F-I-L who would show my boys how to do "stuff" and coo over our girl. Instead, I recieved hate, mistrust, rudeness and an ability to cause pain that would make a dentist needle look obselete.

And you know what, I can deal with that. It hurts to be completely ignored when you speak but try that shit on my kids and I will bitch slap you from here until Christmas and don't think you're stopping for Thanksgiving! We were estranged for a few years when the death of A's beloved Grandmother brought us back together as a family. Not for long.

I watched as the P-I-L came over to help with some tree lopping and my M-I-L fawned all over my daughter....while ignoring my three year old son. He sat there with his big brown eyes and a worry on his tiny face because he was getting no attention and I broke. I broke for him, I broke for the years of pain this could potentially cause and I broke for my husband. How two nasty people could produce a loving and caring individual such as my husband is astonishing beyond belief. I know he didn't learn his compassion from them!

Why this lengthy evil P-I-L bashing session?

They live not more than five minutes away from me. Husband and I helped them renovate great whopping swathes of their home. We helped build the bar, refurbish the lounge room, build the rotunda for the spa, the deck for the back of the house, I even painted a mural in their downstairs toilet. Before all of the niceness ended we had great times there. The only way I learnt about A's childhood was from sessions spent with a quiet port around a roaring brazier as stories were swapped. It was insightful and eyeopening but I felt I knew him better.

Yesterday I saw their house for sale in the paper. It has been sold. And my heart hurt. It hurt and it cracked and it broke into a million pieces. Why? Because once they move, we won't know where they will be. It will be the absolute end of one branch of our family tree. Before this, that branch was there but it was diseased and mis-shapen. If only they had of asked or extended a hand, we then could have pruned that branch back into shape. Now, the branch will be gone and there will be no going back.

Try and explain that to a twelve year old who remembers riding the lawnmower with her Pop, a ten year old who needs love and constant reassurance....and a six year old who they don't even know exists and who they don't know his name, his age or even his sex. Go on...just try.

Cin