Three and a half years ago my Nonnie died – 01/07/08 to be exact. Since then I’ve felt like my world is that of a snow globe with an angry child shaking it relentlessly. Just when all the snow flakes are about to settle he grabs it firmly between his little sausage fingers and shakes everything back up with a evil cackle. I feel that Nonnie was the pin that held the wheel together – the rock in the family that everyone leaned firmly on and ever since her abrupt departure from our lives, we’ve all been like scattered crabs in a harbor trying to find our way back to normalcy.
I don’t think anything will ever be back to normal.
Nonnie, for the majority of my life, was like my mother, Grandmother and friend all in one. When I lost her, I lost three fundamental people in my life. My family lost the voice of reason and I lost the blinders that had been put on my eyes. I was spoiled absolutely rotten as a child, but not by my mom and dad so much, but by my Nonnie. The world was mine to take and she was the one who would provide me with whatever I needed to hold it in my hand. I need a violin? Nonnie bought it for me. I need a cell phone? Nonnie paid for it for me. New clothes before the start of the school year? Every. damn. school year. Nonnie gave me all and everything and then more. If I had said to her, “Nonnie, I want to be an astronaut!” She would have found some way to get me the moon. I didn’t really need any attention from anyone else in my family because I was smothered in it – I was rolling in it like a greedy little child. When she passed it was like my world stopped and sighed. I didn’t have anyone to talk to every single night on my way home. I didn’t have her overzealous love with my life – selfishly, I missed her for loving me so much. I missed being spoiled with attention and affection.
These past three and a half years have been a roller coaster of emotional distress. In many ways, I feel like I’ve become Nonnie for my Mom, in an awkward kind of way. We both lean on each other a lot, but there are things I could never lean on her for. Rule number one about Fight Club? We don’t talk about Fight Club. Rule number one about conversations with my mom? We don’t talk about educational funding with my mom. It’s a conversation that is not on the table. What I’ve also come to realize is that I turn my head to my mom about my kid brother and I’ll get an ear full. Remember the blinders I referred to with Nonnie and the greedy relishing in attention? When she left, she took those with her, and it has sense opened my eyes to the blatant favoritism played towards my younger brother. The paying for my brother and his girlfriend to live in Florida – all costs, at that. Food, car, gas, rent – meanwhile, did I get to go to college? No – because my mom didn’t want to pay for me to live on a college campus (which, for most colleges, are a requirement for Freshman). Did brother or girlfriend work the entire 2.5 years that they were living off my parents dime? Nope. They even went so far as to lie to me to tell me that my brother was working at Publix down there.
I’m bitter – I’m not going to pretend like I’m not – but lately, it just feels like it’s getting worse. There are a thousand, countless things that my brother has royally screwed up, but its just a “there, there, [tap] [tap], it’ll be alright buddy.” If I did any of that it would be complete blasphemy.
I never noticed just how one sided it really was until Nonnie passed. Now, every time I turn my head, I feel like I’m getting an ear full on all the things my brother has screwed up and how my parents “are done helping him.” (Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.) Instead I sit here, alone, fully functioning and capable of handling things on my own and it’s just a “oh, good job, Samantha.” Gee, thanks.
I don’t want a lot, but I just want some damn recognition from the people that I need it from most. I want them to realize how incredibly hard it is working full time and going to school full time. I don’t want to hear “Samantha, maybe you’re doing too much and you need a break”, because that only nerves me; what I want is some recognition. I want them to admit that they gave my brother more than they gave me.
What it really comes down to, despite the fact that this entire post is just a bunch of bitching, I want my Nonnie back. I want the security of knowing that everything I’m doing is awesome, full of matter, and that I’m appreciated. I miss her. Hold on to the people you love, you never know when they won’t be there to hold you back.