I Have Cousins

I ran away from my family a few years ago but my cousins found me on Facebook

The first cousin to find me was Frances.  I have been hiding out for years in North Carolina.  One day, I went to my Facebook account and there she was with a big Hi.  I have to tell you it scared me to death.  I was sucked back in time to the very day that my life changed forever.  The day I ran away from family.  I really didn't run away.  Family sort of ran away from me.  Wait! I woke up this morning with the need to say thanks to my cousins for finding me again, but I don't really want to write about this day yet.  Do you have to know the whole story?  It hurts to tell it.  Frances needed to hear the story to understand.  I guess you do, too.  My mom drank.  I recently decided that it started when Starr died.  She was my mom's second favorite person in the world.  She was 10 or 11 year old with long shiny black hair and knobby knees.  Up to this point in my life, we were sisters except that her mom was my mom's sister.  We weren't a lot alike.  She could do anything and everything.  She won all the challenges.  The most jumps, the most swings, the best hopscotcher, the best at jacks.  She could even do a one handed cart wheel.  The only think I can think to write about myself is I had a great imagination and could come up with great games.  No cart wheels for me, but Starr didn't mind for some reason because we were best friend.  One day, Starr didn't want to play and then she had to go the the hospital.  The doctors didn't know what was wrong.  My mom didn't either but she knew how to cure her...PRAY.  She prayed, and prayed, and prayed.  My mom was very religious.  To say she went to church was an understatement.  She went to church, raised her hands, spoke in tongues, was healed, danced with the Spirit, anointed everything with oil, and even passed out in church on a regular basis.  We all knew Starr would be okay because we prayed.  But she died.  I still feel empty when I say it.  God didn't answer my mom's prayers and my mom started drinking.  She drank for a year and I started to change.  I wanted her attention.  I cussed like a sailor.  Stole her cigarettes.  Acted tough.  I was eleven.  I was just a shadow.  She didn't see me.  The family did, though, and they were worried.  The adults decided and told my mom that I needed to go live somewhere else until she got it together (which wouldn't happen until I was fifteen.)  So one muggy August afternoon just before 6th grade, I went to live with practical strangers.  Not family.  Strangers that were better than me, better than family.  Strangers that didn't love me, didn't know me.  In a way, I was a shadow to them, too. Thirty years later, Frances says Hi.  She has a lot of nerve.  Hi is too easy.  Doesn't she know that I am still pouting?  Doesn't she know that family sent me away?  Apparently not.  I got up my nerve and called her.  We talked two or three times before she asked why I walked away from the family.  That's when I reminded her of that day in August when not one person in my family took me in.  That day not one family member walked me the stranger's car.  That day when no one wanted me.  Do you know what she said?  She didn't know and had never thought about it that way.  She was just a child when it all happened.  She didn't know and neither do the fourteen other cousins who has since found me on Facebook.  I had to find my courage to accept the first four or five friend requests, but after that, I couldn't wait to see my family.  Most of them look so completely different I wouldn't recognize them on the street.  Some I can barely remember.  Others I completely worshipped as a child and am amazed that they spoke to me then and now.  My cousins.  My family.  Back after all these years.  Maybe I will find the courage to visit them one day.  Right now, I am just surprised that I have cousins.

Author's Note

I am trying to piece together my memory of the past. I plan to write a much longer version of my "story" one day. But for now, I am writing pieces. Can you understand my "feelings" in this passage? Is it okay that I address the reader? Is it a smooth enough transition from the present to the past to the present? How is the ending? Too quick? Too shallow? To high school English paper?

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

Our stories are different, but my experiences allowed me to put myself in your shoes and get a feeling for what you've been through. People who've grown up with two good parents have no idea how lucky they were. Being rejected by one's own family is a tough and heavy burden to bear, and I'm not sure one can ever recover from it. Thank you for telling this very well-written story of your life, Melissa. I know it took some courage.

[Jana Greene]

I can understand your feelings. I understand you more today - after reading this - than ever. Fluid, descriptive and authentic....thats what I think of this piece. Redeemed and "Just gettin' goin'"....thats how I would describe you as Writer.

[Sunny Lea]

Your family is blessed to have you, plus the fact that you can acknowledge them despite the past. It is okay to address the reader and you should be proud of your courage to revisit some painful parts of your life. I do want to know more.