Mike’s Musings

So, today was a bit of an odd stew.  For a variety of reasons, mostly having to do with my family’s penchant for turning happy holidays in dramafests, Josh and I decided to not go visit (yes, I split that infinitive) my father and grandfather today, and instead, go visit Dan’s father for the barbeque they were having in Clare.  Mind you, my father is pretty low-maintenance about Father’s Day, and the one thing he most craves for as a gift is space.  I can dig that vibe, so it’s fine with me.  My grandfather, though, is still grieving my grandmother’s death in January, and I’m not making any value judgments about his grieving for her; we all have our timelines and they were together sixty-plus years, so I think he’s quite earned the right to grieve as long as he needs to.  One thing I do not what to be a part of is how he will verbally lash out when he’s in the throes of his grief; it brings back too many unpleasant memories.  Images of him pointing a shotgun at his brother’s chest and my mother in the middle of them, begging him to not shoot.  Him yelling at my mother one Christmas and going to attack her with a chair, and my sister getting in between them, taking the hit of the chair.  I took her to the hospital and tried to get her to press charges, but she wouldn’t.  I didn’t see, or talk to, my grandfather for two years after that; I simply refused.  

All of that paints a horrible picture of him, and in the past, he was abusive.  He still has moments in his grief where he lashes out, like I said, but he’s nothing at all like what he was.  I love that man with all my heart.  In an essay I wrote about the days before my grandmother’s death, he is a whale and I am a guppy.  But I am 35 years old, and I can choose to avoid potential danger zones.  Now that I’ve got my nephew to think about, I’m finding I’m a very protective papa bear.

I wish I had had adults in my life who were able to protect me from that verbal and physical violence the way I can for Josh.  That didn’t happen, since both my parents grew up with that as a model, and they practiced that model on each other and us.  Every holiday was a time for big volcanic blowups to happen, and I hated it.  Actually, any day was a time for that to happen; we never knew when Mom (especially) and Dad would blow up.  Josh grew up with a mother and father and step-father who couldn’t rise above that sort of thing, so I know what it’s like.  I refuse to have him go through that.  Even though there was a small chance for a dramatic blowup, I still didn’t want to take that risk.  So we went to Clare instead.  And had a wonderful time with Dan’s parents, who love and respect one another.  It’s a totally different environment with them.  

I will not put Joshua at risk like that.  Not if I see hints of a storm on the horizon.  I love that kid so much, and he will always know he has a home with me and Dan where he is loved unconditionally and where problems are resolved with calm, yet stern, voices, and logic, not screaming and out-of-control emotions.  My cycle ends, and I will show him how to end his.  That is the gift I want to give him.

On a more upbeat note, I start the Saginaw Bay Writing Project Summer Institute tomorrow.  I’m really looking forward to it; I want to see how I reconnect with myself through my writing, and what I can learn from my co-fellows.  This is going to be great!  I’ll keep you all posted as things develop.

To all you uncle daddies out there, Happy Father’s Day!

Namaste… MS