Child support – not the usual kind
Proving it, bit by bit……
I just finished reading iconoclasm’s diary, and it prompted a few thoughts for me.
He mentioned some things about how people who are thought of to be in "my class" – I resent that label, in a way, but who gives a fuck? – instill the wrong values in their children.
I grew up middle class. Probably middle-middle, if that makes sense. Not lower-middle or upper-middle….just right in the MIDDLE of middle class. Maybe not….but that’s what some people told me when I was younger.
There was not always money for extra things, but my parents made sure the bills were paid by WORKING, getting a paycheck, and paying the damn things! When things got above their heads, as only happened a few times that I remember, they sought help from institutions such as banks. At one point…actually, two…they put our house up for sale, in an effort to pay off back bills and start buying another house. If anyone insults them for this, there will be major war, because I am fiercely proud of my parents, and I understand that they only did what they felt was necessary.
They had three children whom they loved and adored. Daddy was not always so good at SHOWING that he adored us, but I know he did. He and I, in particular, just had a lot in common, so we clashed rather hard.
As I look back on it, even when Daddy cracked down so much and so hard on me, he offered promise and hope, in a lot of ways. He always told me that I had the power to live the kind of life I wanted to live. I was not limited by anything anyone said or did except myself. Too bad I didn’t believe him. Mama said the same things, and she never once contradicted them the way Daddy sometimes did. Probably the way I do, too, with my babies.
I am even MORE fiercely protective of my babies. That is what this entry was to be about, though my parents are always in my mind and heart. They helped me secure my soul, as I see it, with God and family….how could I leave these wonderful people out?!!!
The children (some of them are grown now) I call "my babies" range in age from new-born to 23!!!! Since I was born to a family such as mine, where my mother was one of the two youngest siblings, about half my cousins are a decade or so older than I. These are the ones I always felt closer to. I still do, for the most part.
Gene was the first to have a child. Tim, Gene’s son, was born in 1982. I was seven years old. In 1985, we welcomed Andy, Tim’s brother, and my cousin Chris, who is my precious Uncle Ray’s son.
Tim is grouped in with "my babies", though I was nowhere NEAR as actively involved in his raising as with the rest from age ten on.
When Chris and Andy were small, I held them as newborns. Even though I was a child myself, this contact with such small children cemented my parental instinct that early in life. I admit to being less than motherly, at times, but I also know that I long so desperately to be a good influence for my babies.
Through the years, MY child support – the support that these beautiful little people (some are not so little anymore!!!! OMG!) has kept me going at times when nothing else has. Several very special children, including two cousins’ children and one godson, were born in 1993, the year I was 18. These children REALLY made me feel parental. I cooked, cleaned, changed diapers, bought food and diapers, babysat frequently, and comforted them when they cried (if they honestly deserved it – sometimes I didn’t believe they did!). They also comforted me when I cried. They have always been my strength. They have always shown me what real, unconditional love is all about. They have always made me feel like a REAL person. They love me. I love them. God, do I EVER love them!!!!
In 1999, my sister gave birth for the first time. Her son, Alex…my gorgeous, talented nephew…is a dream come true for me. She followed by giving birth to her daughter Juli in 2000. These children were wanted, needed, and are most certainly loved and cherished. We were raised in such a way that it seemed only proper to be married before we had a family. I never lived up to my parents’ standards concerning sex, but it never caused anything that I couldn’t deal with, luckily. I am gay, therefore, I didn’t have to worry about an unplanned pregnancy. I can’t carry children! LOL Sometimes, I get so jealous about that!
Alex and Juli have a cousin named Tessy. Tessy belongs to our brother Wayne. They have three cousins by our brother Jerry – Cody, Hailey, and Kady. I have never met Kady yet, as she is still a newborn, and because her parents and I live apart from each other, and our schedules conflict, we have yet to meet up in the between times. It totally SUCKS to have to wait for our paths to cross. I would much rather just MAKE a chance to see my darling new niece!!!! I am a wildly protective uncle. I teach my babies that there is NOTHING they can’t do.
On Thanksgiving this past year, Alex went a little nutso, cutting out hearts from a coloring book. He gave me one that had turned out lopsided. I thought it was so beautiful, because he made it just for me. He said, "I messed it up, Hermy." with a sad voice. I hugged him and told him that it was beautiful because HE MADE IT!!!! I assured him that I loved it, and I still carry it in my planner-organizer, which has usurped my wallet’s place these days. When I pull out that lopsided heart, I kiss it and smile. I hear My Alex telling me he messed it up, and I see his smile when I told him it was beautiful because he made it. These are the moments I totally live for, people.
One time, I was in Austin, where they live, and I had hitched a ride there with Mama. My car was either left at home or OOC (Out Of Commission)….probably OOC. Mary Helen, whom I’ve referred to as Atilla the Sister in here, asked me to stay until Tuesday. Well, our mother and I had planned for me to ride home with her that Sunday. It WAS Sunday, in fact, when Mary Helen asked me to stay. She said s
he’d take me home Tuesday. Now, I am rather anally retentive about changing established plans, so this really upset me. I sat outside crying on the covered swing MH had in her yard back then. Mama came out to talk to me. We made no headway. Alex came outside, and he walked over, sat on my lap, and he gave me a hug. He asked me why I was crying. I immediately felt pretty dumb for making such a scene that it upset my nephew. He was all of three at the time, I think. I told him what was wrong, and I asked him what I should do….go home to my house, because Nana (my Mama) and I had planned it that way….OR….stay at his house with him. He chewed his lip in his endearing little thought-wracked way, and he said, "I want you to stay at my house." So I said okay. I stayed, and I stopped crying. My Boy, as I call him, made up my mind, and it was a happy thing, then.
Where would we be in life without our children? Now, I am a parent and grandparent myself. What surprises we find in life!!!!!
Mikey just woke up, so I will wind this long entry down.
Much love to all,
Elf