Ray

I’ve had this photo of my son for over thirty years now. I just noticed that you can see my step-father in the mirror. His posture speaks volumes. He is slumped backwards in his chair, legs crossed, holding something like a toothpick in his mouth, disengaged with my son’s performance.

As a grandfather, he could not have been more disinterested in his step-grandson ever accomplished. I don’t believe he ever said a single word to him after my son worked his own way to a PhD at the University of California in San Diego, a damned impressive accomplishment for a boy who had never had a father, not even child support. My son was six when this video was taken, completely undeserving of the rejection he was made to feel by different members of “the family’.

My mother is sitting closer to the stage, leaning forward, more appropriately e

I remember this so well that whenever the parents came through town. Ray always made it clear he was uncomfortable, disinterested and even resentful of having to spend time with us. He was always in a hurry to leave with always an urgent need to get back home.

I used to drive across the country to let the kids spend christmas with the grandparents. My mother wanted our company. My stepfather always made it clear we were not welcome.

My little sister, in her rage, let me know that she expects me to feel the same for him as she did, when we had quite the opposite experience with the man. He favored her over his very own children.

When my mother and Ray were first engaged, I welcomed that man with open arms. I had complete and full respect for himl Respect was his to lose and he lost it. He was neither kind, nor honest, being especially cruel to 2 other siblings.

When I told the story of how he hid the sugar from Johnny , expressing bitterness over having to take care of my dying brother, and playing a sugar game that resulted in my brother being held to the floor in a psych ward, tied up in a straight jacket, injected with something to knock him out and then tossed into isolation, after being told his cancer treatments had been terminated and the doctor, as well as ‘the family’, had just given up on him.

If other family members can be okay with my mentally disabled and dying brother being treated that way, that’s a betrayal to me of my brother. There was no reason for him to suffer those final injuries during the last few months of his life. I will forever be devastated by it.

On my last visit with Ray … he was angry with me for not trying to control and reprimand my grandson and daughter to the point of barely speaking to me. After my mother’s death, he did one last cruel thing that’s not important enough to bring up. I only bring this up because it feels very unfair that my daughter wants to paint him as some kind of nice guy to the kids, when he only befriended her the final year because he was very angry with me.

Ray was angry with me because I had hurt Lisa’s husband with my 3 words. He was angry with me because I wouldn’t ally with him against both my daughter and my grandson, but my niece, Laura, as well. And I believe all of them don’t have a clue how I stood up for them in the face of it. What they’ve been told about me is the opposite of what is true. I will never have a voice, which is why I journal.