Relative Secrets

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

You've heard me talk about the step mother. Her picture was in our local newspaper recently. It shows my step-sister being rescued from Katrina flood waters, and the step mother is coming along behind her, dragging a cooler. It was interesting that some of you were so invested in my history that you wanted to see a picture of her. That's what she looks like -- she's real, and she looks very harmless. Dad's not in the picture, but we have word from distant relatives that they are all okay, but once again, I feel like it's another slight: he has no idea whether or not any of us are okay, and has not asked. I really shouldn't worry about it. I shouldn't expect him to give a shit. I KNOW better. I guess part of the reason that it bothers me is that I'm seeing the community come together and check to make sure everyone is okay. Neighbors I never knew are suddenly intertwined in the effort to survive around here. Friends on my phone list I haven't talked to in ages are coming by to check on us, and I'm getting in touch with them to make sure they're okay.

This is not something I can talk about to anyone else. It's a secret that I still get hurt by his complete disinterest in us. I have to pretend that I'm not even thinking about them. To bring up their names in conversation in this family is considered a weakness, and stupidity. Because we KNOW better. Or we should.


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