The Little Rock

The giving of love is an education in itself. ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

I have been meaning to write this post for some time. I have been struggling with it because the subject touches some raw nerves, and my survival instinct is to push it away. This time around it's been nagging me most of my waking moments, so it's high time I vented.

From my very early posts of a Christmas saved by a puppy, I have described the family I am in as dysfunctional. My earliest memory as a child is, it's never been a normal household. As the parents contemplate the impending divorce, I am told things a twelve-year old should not be partial to.

One parent takes it out on me, the other ignores me. I am brought up by an endless stream of helpers. As far as I am concerned, I have been orphaned at that point. The emotional distance has never failed to bridge all these years. The funny but ironic thing is the child has grown, but the parents are still stuck in the stagnated time tunnel.

I have read a lot of articles that children either emulate their parents or rebel against them. I have chosen the latter. The biggest insult someone can bring on me is I resemble "her". There is an insider joke among the helpers that I am a little rock. One day, I burst out from a piece of rock and no one knows where I have come from. I am cool with being a rock.

The older I get, the less respect I have for them. Bitter, angry, sad, disappointed, ashamed, the list goes on and on. I can still remember the astonishment when I receive the bills from my birthday dinner, sent to the family company for reimbursement. Before my mentor leaves the company, I am given a book which details every reimbursement paid for everything she has bought for me and my brothers.

Gatherings are rarely pleasant, so I have learned to keep my distance. I shy away from as many social calls as much as possible. As for the unavoidable ones, I armor myself with pep talk before and pour me a Black Label after.

When you see a parent at a dinner and he does not even see you or ask how you are or he has left town without you knowing and he is online but never says hello, you know you are the little rock. You just burst out from nowhere.

This is not a sad post. It's a story of a little rock which has magically grown to a rock that is able to anchor the author's life.

(photo: www. woosk.com)