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The Boys

January 6, 2011

See, here is the way it is in my adopted family.  The problems always seem mostly with our boys.  It is our boys that pay in alienation.  It only takes a brief look at our family tree to see it.  Most of my male cousins made it through.  But there were these few.  As a child, when I would hear my parents discussing these boys, I was always left with the impression that these boys were at fault.  These boys exist on the fringes of our family. They wander the desert, find their peers and comfort outside the family.  The only person, I ever heard recognize it was my adopted father.  He was talking with me about bed-wetting.  He said that another member of my family, one of my cousins had this particular problem, and that it could be worse.  When I asked him what he meant he said,  “…believes that you should just beat the child until he stops.  He would not respond to any further questions.  But I did believe it could be worse.

So, I look and I see the shape of the landscape.  There is severe alienation among my aunts and uncles.  Fits of ostracism.  Years ago, we lost an entire wing of our family, mother and cousins gone.  Everyone seems to have just let them go.  These people that we shared wonderful holidays with, the cassette tapes from Germany, summer vacations.  Poof! gone.  Now, I’m watching it spread to the children of my generation, and I fear for my son.

If we would start talking about it.  Not replaying who did what to whom, but recognizing that there is a problem.  We could, as a family, watch for the signals among our children, or in each other.  We could intervene.  Maybe then the alienation within our family would start to heal.  

But we so often gather round to exclude.

I have posted a good bit of my pain on this page.  I have made my family aware of it.  I wonder, is the gathering beginning.   Are loyalties being weighed,  costs being counted?   Hell, is there even a problem in your minds, except me?

I approach my family with this consideration.  Maybe you know me only as a problem child, or a prisoner, or a liar.  I have been all of those things.  If you can not see the truth in my words.  If you can not see that I believe them, then look for yourselves.  How is it possible that we, as a family, lose so many boys?

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