When you think you want to know something, but when you finally find out, all you wish is to rewind and make them to stop before they tell you... But now you can never go back.
All of my life I have wanted to know more about my Fathers side of the family. Since the day he left I have felt very distant from him, and distant from the real truth. I felt that I deserved a right to know. Anytime I saw my Grandparents after that, which I could only count on one hand, I would try to get as much information as possible. Not about my father though. I didn't want to know anything about him. He made his own bed in what he did, and I wanted nothing to do with him or his new family. Plus I knew too much about him already, and most of it was ugly.
No. The things I wanted to know about were only these two. More about my Native American heritage, which my Grandmother really knew nothing about, and also of what my Uncle was like. Before he killed himself. I was five years old when my parents got the call. I cant even imagine what my father was feeling after just finding out that his identical twin brother shot himself in the head while in the shower. I remember my mom telling me that when he heard, he laid his face in both of his palms and hunched over in great emotional and physical pain. I can vividly picture what that must have looked like.
Since then, I always wanted to know more about who my uncle was. My Grandma on my moms side describes him as being the "nicer twin", my father I guess having more of a spunk to him. I also know that he was a lumber jack. I remember very plainly watching images of him cutting down trees. These videos were on slide shows, so they looked especially vintage, and his face was hard to make out. I knew it was him though, because he always had a mustache, and my father didn't. My father did however grow my uncles signature mustache after he died. You can imagine how confusing this was to a young child. My father would walk through the door and I would think it was my Uncle. But how could it be? He was dead. And I wondered why we didn't visit him anymore. I didn't understand.
My father quickly took on his twins persona. He grew the mustache, adopted his music taste, bought drums and taught himself to play, as my uncle must have done, and he even bought an old Ford Ranger and had the license plate bare his brothers name. Aside from these things, the only other things I knew of my uncle, were the teddy bear that he gave me close to when he died, and the straw hat that my father had for a long time until my brother inherited it. I still have the bear. He sleeps on my bed every night, as he is right now sitting on my right. Whenever I want to feel close to my uncle, I hug my bear and say a prayer, and even talk straight to my uncle, like maybe he can hear me somewhere up there.
I constantly wonder what life would have been like, had he not committed suicide. Would my father still have gone off the deep end? Would I have actually had an uncle who cared enough to be in our lives, unlike my fathers other brother, who couldn't give two shits about us kids, and never did. In my heart of hearts, I feel that my uncle who passed would have been a wonderful person to have in our lives. One early memory, and one of my only memories I have of him, was when my brother, father, uncle and I were camping somewhere in Washington State. I was very little, and we had to cross a strong river. My uncle hoisted me up on his shoulder and carried me across like the river didn't even phase him. I looked up to him as being strong and unstoppable. On the same trip I remember him and my father pushing down rotten trees with their bare hands, then climbing the massive trunks. I didn't know that the trees had died, and thought they were both strong enough to push down trees at their own will. As a kid, I was in awe of both of them.
I have fuzzy memories here and there, but I doubt any of them are correct. I wish they were, but I for now can live off of the memories I do have. And to have my teddy bear, is like having a physical and emotional part of him. I can feel his presence. Not in a scary ghostly way, but in a peaceful way. I have created what his presence must have felt like and have put that onto my childhood toy. No matter what, to this day I can hug my bear and feel an immediate sense of relief. I even had him with me in the Mental Hospital, but after a while the nurses told my mom I was too old for a toy to comfort me, and they made my mom take him home while I stayed in the hospital. That was a low blow in my opinion. But thats beside the point.
Everything that I have known about my uncle has been good. I don't know what any of his faults must have been. Obviously I know that he was hurting very bad to have done what he did. I can't say I understand what he was going through, but I too have hurt so bad I just wanted to end it all. An unfortunate truth just came out to me today. I learned from my father, that my uncle was molested as a child, by my great grandfather... I was absolutely disgusted by this fact. From what I understand, it was a continuous thing. I wanted to immediately rewind and never learn of this. Because now I feel that icky feeling, the one I can't quite explain. And now my heart hurts even more for the uncle that I can never reach out to and try to comfort. I feel like he is still in pain, despite being gone. I feel like there was such an injustice done to him, that the memory of him may never be peacefully laid to rest. How could it be?
Immediately my mind started to race, started blaming and wondering what the hell my grandparents could have done to have prevented this. I know they are not the most functional people in the world. In fact they are the most dysfunctional people I have ever known. And somewhere in their dysfunction, a helpless boy was being sexually abused and they were too blind to see it. I also wonder what they must feel like now. Do they feel like failures as parents? I suppose I pity them given that fact. I always thought my uncle took his own life because he was depressed, and because his wife cheated on him, but never could I think of something so dark and ugly happening to him. I want to go back in time and prevent this from happening, from completely changing the fate of an entire generation, and also an entire generation after that. Or maybe I should go back and strangle the man responsible for all of this pain. Does God punish these people for what they have done? Is there really even a God up there? Its hard to believe in him, especially when he allows for such mortifying behavior.
I may never know much more about my uncles past, and that may be because I don't want to know. I feel that I just want to remember him the way that I have created through the years. I don't know what more detail would do to me emotionally. Should I know everything for the sake of his memory? Should I learn about it to honor him, or should I only allow for the good memories to be shared? These are some things that I may never know the answer to. And maybe thats okay. It has taken such an emotional toll to learn such a deep and dark secret. One that I never thought would plague my family.
To my uncle Marv. I love you. As a child, you were like superman to me. So strong, manly, kind, even my savior when you saved me from the rivers current that one summer day. I looked up to you, not more than my father, but in a different way. I always wanted to be around you and know more about you. And I am heartbroken that I never really got to. I will forever cherish your memory, even if those memories are something I falsely created as a child. Whenever I want to feel close to you, I will hug my bear, think of you, and say a long prayer in honor of you. Rivers will always make me think of you, and old two tone brown Ford Rangers will always be something I look out for, hoping that maybe it says Marvmbile on the license plate. I am sorry for the pain that you had to go through, and how alone you must have felt in those last hours of your life. I wish you could have gotten help, and maybe even had a family that talked about their problems, and didn't stuff them down inside. It is my believe that you deserved much better, but you were unfortunately never even given a chance. I hope that one day, somehow I will see you again, and wrap my arms around you, and give you the comfort that I so very badly want to give you now. May you rest in peace and happiness. To say that you are greatly missed is a tremendous understatement. My heart is broken for you, but I will keep on praying, as long as I'm alive, you will live within my soul, and I will try to live a better life for the both of us. If only it worked that way. In the name of Rush, your favorite band, "Fly by night away from here". Goodnight uncle Marv.
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