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My family would need a warehouse for all its skeletons but I put the pieces together recently that explains an awful lot about one side anyway. My grandfather was pretty hosed up in a lot of ways. He never talked about his own father much and it turns out he had a brother he never spoke to (or about, nor did anyone else which is why I didn't even know he had a brother until a decade after he died), but that was incidental. All we really knew about his father was that he once was a butcher, like his father before him, his parents divorced when he was young, and that he eventually died in the nuthouse in the '60s. And beyond that he would say nothing at all. Nobody ever wanted to talk about that his family. All we had from them was a meat cleaver from about 1900 that always hanged behind the pegboard in the basement. I never knew why he saved it but after he died I cleaned it up and put it to use in my kitchen. Then I went up to the county archives where they lived and pulled the divorce records and um --- And it gets worse from there. The divorce hearing was in 1903. The son mentioned was my great-grandfather and boy howdy growing up in that kind of environment hosed him up good. Turns out that kind of severe alcoholic abuse can cause psychological damage that just travels right on down the generations, expressing itself differently but no less profoundly in each broken person in that progeny. And it goes a long way in explaining why I'm so hosed up in the head today. So yeah there that. I'm not so sure I want to use that cleaver anymore. Though I can sort of see why the family kept it all these years.
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# ¿ Nov 18, 2015 04:18 |
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# ¿ May 16, 2024 18:38 |