Family Obligations and Clashing Cultures

I realized today that many of my NoJoMo (nearly all) have been set to private.  Part of the fun of NoJoMo is to share and write and have others see and comment.  There’s just been a bit of family stuff going on that I’m not ready to put out there yet.  It needs to be private.
But then I was reminded that here I have my privacy.  I’m an unfiltered, uncensored version of myself and I don’t have to have that private setting to keep that.  I keep my privacy safe in the anonymity of the site.  One person has crossed the RL/OD line and he is wonderful at understanding and respecting my need to keep them separate.  Anyways…  just rambling…

Thanksgiving is always an odd time of year for me.  My family has never been a huge holiday family.  My memories of Thanksgiving involve really no traditions.  Every year was different and odd.  One year it was lasagna at our cabin in the mountains.  Another year we went to Montreal.  There have been a few years where family-at-large has gathered, but not often.  The past three years, I haven’t even gone back to my parents’ for the holiday.  I go elsewhere.  Usually to family, but rarely home anymore.

This year was no different.  Except I’m starting to feel the pressure of family obligations.  I’ve never been close to my family in Detroit.  I can’t really put my finger on it exactly.  I know my dad doesn’t really like my mother’s brother.  And I know it is partly because my uncle initially didn’t like my dad.  Told my mother not to date him and definitely not to marry him.  Whatever.  That was over 30 years ago.  They should both grow up.  But I also understand why my dad is annoyed by my uncle even today.  Anyways, because of this familial love (or lack thereof) we never spent much time with this particular family.  My uncle has two boys and I really don’t know them at all either.  Which hasn’t helped lately.  I don’t believe these cousins know what happened the last time I was at Calvin, and they may not even know that I’m bipolar.  I really don’t know, and honestly don’t care.  But the rest of the family seems to know I’m not a huge fan of Michigan.  Yes, I live here.  Yes, I chose to come here.  But I don’t love it.  I miss the East Coast.  I miss NY.  I’m not a Mid-West girl and I don’t think I’ll ever be, even if I spend the rest of my life here.

This came to a bit of a head with my cousin a few weeks ago.  I had been sick and then my car got broken into.  I was just done with Michigan and trying to see the silver lining.  The theft was the last straw for me, and I posted something on Facebook about not liking Michigan anymore.  No one took offense, except my cousin, Nick.  Who got mad at me and told off one of my friends too.  Attacking me is one thing, but being so small-minded to think that there aren’t people in the world who don’t like the area you’re from and taking such offense is…  Well, immature.  I don’t think Michigan is worthless (totally) and I don’t think people who love Michigan are dumb and worthless.  I just don’t like it.  I don’t understand why people do.  But many people don’t understand why I love the Yankees, but hate Jeter.  Many people don’t like the Yankees!  Its all opinion and smoke.

I’m getting off track.  Nick got mad and there was a little "tiff" on Facebook because of it.  It was never really resolved, but I didn’t care much.  Until it was time for me to figure out my Thanksgiving Break.  My grandmother was coming up to Detroit from Florida.  My aunt invited me over for the holiday, guessing correctly that I wouldn’t be going home.  I didn’t really want to come here.  I wanted to go to Indy and see my dad’s sister and my cousin.  Maybe Chicago.  Maybe Bowling Green.  But not really here.  I don’t know these people.  But I know and love my grandmother.  She is getting older and I really do like spending time with her.  I can’t not come see her when she’s so close.  Family pressure.

But I was much more comfortable in Indy.  I wanted to spend more time in Indy.  I wanted to go to Bowling Green and see Lulorial.  But I’m here in Detroit instead.  My grandmother is fine.  My aunt and uncle are really fine too.  I just don’t know them.  I’ve never known them.  I’ve never been close to these cousins.  When the family reunions used to happen, I was the only girl and then four boys, all close in age.  They also spent a lot of time together and so they knew each other pretty well.  I didn’t want to play football or poker or run around for hours on end.  I wanted to sit with the adults, or read.  And once the younger girls were born, I was reduced to auto-babysitter.  So i don’t know these cousins.  I know my 16-year-old cousins better than these two.  With Nick and I having this little tiff, it was even more uncomfortable.  He acted like a typical Mid-Westerner and Michiganer – nice and polite, but cool enough to freeze Mercury.  His brother was nicer to me, by far.  Tim actually talked to me, acknowledged my existence.  I’m sure if his mother hadn’t said it, he wouldn’t have said good-bye to me when he left.  Not like I would have cared.  This is what makes me the most annoyed about this Mid-West/Michigan attitude.  By doing nothing really wrong, he made me feel completely unwelcome.  New Yorkers may be mean, but at least we’re honest about it all.  But we danced the dance and pretended everything was fine.

I really do hate that I don’t know my cousins better.  I really do hate that Nick and I aren’t able to be closer.  And at this point I don’t know how to fix this or get over it.  If it was someone from home, we’d have yelled and fought and gotten it all out weeks ago, so that by now it would be forgotten.  I suppose another part of it is that Nick’s reaction was immature.  I mean, seriously?  You’re going to get that worked up because someone doesn’t like the state you like in?  I don’t know how he would survive if he lived in NY!

At least the trip to Indy was great!  One thing I wanted to mention before I forgot.  I wrote a while back about feeling a tug west.  I don’t know how or why, but there’s something in Washington.  Specifically, I keep hearing the echo "He’s there" in my head.  I don’t know if its God or one of the other voices that like to ramble away in my head.  I’ve been praying and thinking about it a little.  I’ve asked God if I’m supposed to be in WA and not here.  The answer feels like a no.  I’m where I’m supposed to be for now.  But there’s something out there.  I was talking to Matt about college ideas.  He’s only a sophomore, so he doesn’t have to make any decisions yet.  But he mentioned Washington too.  Because he thought it would be interesting.  In all honesty, I do have some old family friends in WA, but I really don’t want to go live by them.  They are nice and all, but I just don’t.  So what is this feeling about the Pacific Northwest I keep getting?  About Washington and Seattle in particular.  I don’t know anyone out there.  I don’t know any reason why I’d like to be out there.  I don’t hate it.  I’m just ambivalent.  No great opinion one way or another.  So I don’t get understand the nagging in my head that is calling me out there.  I’m not resistant to the idea, but I really don’t understand it.  When Matt said he thought Washington would be cool, I was floored.  He’s an Ohio boy through and through.  What possessed him to think that or say that?  It was a little unnerving and I spent the car ride thinking and praying about it.  But I still believe I’m where I’m supposed to be, doing what I’m doing for right now.  So I keep on.
But it still nags.  Could I really live in Washington?  All the way on the West Coast?  Really?