Family roles

Fortune cookie wisdom #2

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Blessed is he who makes his companions laugh.

I absolutely love this fortune cookie.

Growing up there wasn’t a lot of room in our house for happiness or laughter.

I was so serious, I rarely cracked a smile or a joke.

My youngest brother Luke was the household comedian. He would do outrageous things to try to make us laugh.

Then over time, Luke changed and so did I. Luke is now the serious one and I am the comedian. I don’t know when we exchanged the baton. I can’t explain it. How do roles change? Can the childhood caretaker become the adult mascot??

Did we just fill the roles that we needed to to survive? To function in dysfunction?

Now can we be who we really are? Who are we really? Are we who we were then or who we are now? Or is it a mixture of both?

Now when I get together with friends and family, I play the part of comedian. I love making people laugh. Life is too short to be serious all of the time.

I try to mix some of my serious blog posts with a pinch of laughter. There is nothing like adding a dose of humor to topics relating to death, despair, and disaster. It makes for some interesting post tags. Hmmm…death and humor?? Really now?

What is wrong with Alissa? I think she has a warped mind. I can hear your voices in my head already.

I don’t even know what genre I’m blogging in. Personal?? And everything else outside and in between. Real life? Your guess is as good as mine. You never know what you’re going to find.

I love following blogs that are able to mix seriousness with humor. It’s really difficult to master and even more difficult to consistently find in writings. They don’t seem to naturally mesh.

Why does it have to be one or the other?? Life is a mixed bag of sunshine, rain (blizzards), laughter, and tears. Most of the time the opposing spectrum cannot cross the center line. Tears from laughter. Sunshine and rain. Both are rare to find combined. Maybe that’s what makes a rainbow so beautifully profound yet elusive to capture. It is mysteriously bent outside of its natural boundaries like the top and bottom ends of the bell curve.

All of these deep thoughts over a fortune cookie about laughter…Geez…It’s not even funny..

 

24. Family dynamics

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Day 24: Describe your family dynamic of your childhood vs. your family dynamic now.

Then:

My parents were married back then and still are now, however there was always a lot of conflict between them. My mom was the breadwinner and the one who did a great majority of the household chores.

I was the firstborn. I was overly responsible, a caregiver, a confidante of my mother, and a problem solver. I felt as if I was always an adult and never a child. I was very serious, mature, moody, and intense. I strongly sided with my mother and found myself playing the part of judge picking sides with either of my youngest two brothers.

The world revolved around my autistic brother Matt. The family centered around his care, wants, and needs. If he wanted to go somewhere, we went. If he decided to stay home, we would stay. Everything was about him, the rest of us took the back burner.

Mark was the invisible child. He didn’t rock the boat. He was quiet, serious, honest, stoic, and hard working. He received attention for his work ethic, otherwise he was totally forgotten. He didn’t seem to have feelings, except the anger and depression that manifested in his teen years. He strongly sided with my dad and it was his job to convince my mom to stay when she wanted to leave.

Luke was the clown and instigator. He demanded attention and refused to let Matt have it all. He did wild and crazy things without consequence because my parents were too worn out to handle it. He rocked the boat every opportunity that he could. He strongly sided with my mother and against Mark and my dad.

The family dynamic was very dysfunctional. We did not work together as a team. The environment was constantly stressful.

Now:

Fast forward things a couple of years….and ‘What’s Eating Gilbert Grape’ falls in love with ‘Good Will Hunting’. Or if you aren’t familiar with those old movies…the little girl who thought that dysfunction was normal met the little boy without a daddy. We fell in love and got married.. We had no idea what normal or healthy was, but decided to work towards it anyway.

Not long after…we had 3 children..

Our firstborn Angel is our beauty both inside and out. She is overly responsible, honest, and extremely optimistic with a winning personality too. She is a big time people person and would make a great supervisor.

Our middle child, Alex, is the one that rocks the boat. He is honest to a fault. He is smart with a high emotional intelligence. He is not a people person, but can read people well. Sometimes he likes to cut corners, but is willing to work hard if he needs to.

Our youngest, Arabella, is an intellectual. She is very book smart, but can’t seem to read people. She likes people, but also likes to argue. Other than that, she is very easy going.

As a family, I think our dynamics are very healthy. Sure, sometimes there is squabbling. But compared to how Paul and I grew up, our kids have it made.

I guess we are pretty normal…Whatever that is..

 

Hard to tame

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Once, a very long time ago, I lived in wild and rugged terrain. I had an important job. I kept vigilance. I watched all day and sometimes at night too. Every little sound would wake me and cause me to take guard. I noticed every little detail in my environment for any change that could signify a problem. I noticed patterns.

I was a protector. My vigilance never stopped bad things from happening, but it may have forewarned others of danger or prevented them from being hurt. I wasn’t allowed the distraction of feelings, sensitivity, caring, or warmth to distract me from my post. A lot of other people had that job, but not me.

Then for a short period of time, I was removed from my post. I found myself alone. I thought that maybe I could finally be like everyone else. I wanted to be trusting like everyone else. But I couldn’t.

Then I found myself in an entirely different terrain. I was like a wild prairie dog trapped within the safe confinement of a zoo. I resumed my old post although I was no longer needed. No hawks circled. Few dangers threatened nearby day or night. But I found myself vigilant at my post. I was told that I wasn’t needed anymore, that I should take it easy or relax.

But any attempt to relax my guard caused me more anxiety. So I ran marathons around the inside edges of the wall. I paced back and forth so often that my path was beaten down. Even though I was no longer standing guard, I still felt like I was watching.

Then something else happened. I no longer wanted to be like everyone else. I found that being vigilant had purpose and meaning. My distrust protected me and those I care about.

Even in times of peace, a few people are needed to keep guard. Someone still needs to have a discerning eye to protect others from danger. I am that person.

Some animals are hard to tame.

Handing over the Christmas baton

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After decades of Christmas perfection, little tremors needled away at our  family tree structure creating (gulp) change. The Thanksgiving after Paul and I got married, Uncle Harold passed away. A few years after that my grandpa passed away. My brothers grew up and moved away, with the exception of my autistic brother Matt. I started to have children of my own. Grandma struggled more and more as she aged with doing all of the cooking, cleaning, and decorating involved in having a family Christmas party. We tried to help her as much as we could. Then one year it all ended. My grandma had open heart surgery the summer that I had my third child. It was at this time that my grandma handed the Thanksgiving and Christmas baton to me.

At the time, we were having my in-laws over every Christmas Eve. Year after year it was pretty much the same. My in-laws would show up 2 to 3 hours late. The table would be set. The food would be cold. The kids would eat supper at bedtime. The kids were tired and hungry which made them very crabby. They would cry and have meltdowns. This upset my mother-in-law which resulted in an argument between her and my husband over her being late. At this point, Paul’s stepdad and I would look at each other across the table with a knowing look that said “here we go again”. One of two things either happened. Paul’s mother would disown him and take off for awhile. Or Paul’s mom would scream at my husband and he would kick her out of the house. Eventually she would come back in both scenarios, the gifts were opened, and the kids would go to bed.

After receiving the Christmas baton, Paul and I did what most reasonable people do. We combined our families to make one big happy family Christmas. Insert thoughts of the National Lampoon’s Christmas here. It did go pretty good for quite awhile. Whoever showed up, showed up. We ate at 1:00 PM. If you were late, there were leftovers. Things went pretty well, although after awhile it seemed that my mom and mother-in-law started an unspoken “best grandma” competition. My mom won that one hands down because she could afford nicer gifts and spent more time with the kids. Then my in-laws started to find excuses not to come for Christmas. Either someone was sick, or my personal favorite was that Paul’s stepdad scheduled a colonoscopy the day after Christmas. Priceless.

Oh family, you bring laughter and tears but we love you anyway.

Then a couple of years ago, Luke and his family bought a house that was bigger than mine. I handed him the Christmas baton. All problems solved.

Family dynamics of autism

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Growing up, we all had our roles. Even dysfunctional families find ways to function. As mentioned previously, my parents relationship was rocky before having 4 kids in 5 years. I would even go as far to say that my dad probably is within the Asperger’s spectrum himself. Now throw in the violently autistic child and a wife who was trying desperately to juggle flaming torches. 

As oldest, my main task was fixing. I also held the role of caregiver, decision maker, best friend, advisor, and emotional support. I aligned myself with my mother. It was my task to keep the flaming torches in the air. If there was a problem, it was my task to fix it. I was loyal to whatever cause was important to my mother. As an adult, it has been difficult for me to listen and empathize when everything within me tells me to fix. I had to suppress all feelings in order to use my head to fix. It worked a little like email. I kept deleting my feelings until finally my deleted items were full. Then anger, depression, and anxiety flowed forth like spring’s river. My email is working now, but my husband and I both lack empathy in order to survive childhood. I need reminding to listen and not fix all the time. It has been a bit of a marriage struggle, but as a team people have been hard pressed to take advantage of us by pulling on our heart strings or pull the wool over our eyes. So it is not all bad. 

Mark’s task was physically working hard and advocate for my dad. He aligned himself with my dad. If my mom packed up the car with all of her stuff and was heading down the driveway, it was Mark’s task to stop her. He would tell my mom that it was not my dad’s fault, that he was just not good at relationships. He also earned my dad’s love by working hard even though my dad was lazy. For example, my dad will take the lawnmower to the end of the driveway to get the mail (sometimes in his underwear, of course). Or that one time we got a couple of inches of snow, he was too lazy to clean off his windshield and ended up in the ditch instead. 

Mark worked so hard that he blew out his back as a teen. I have never seen anyone work as hard as he does. When I told him that I was running a marathon, he said he could outrun me. I think that I threatened his role as the family brawn. When Mark wasn’t working, he preferred to be invisible. Mark and Carla decided they are going to have a small wedding with no one standing up. Mark said that he was tempted to have our autistic brother Matt be his best man because Matt’s behavior is so bizarre that no one would notice Mark. That was very profound. 

Luke, the youngest, had the role of instigator, comforter, caregiver, and clown. He was a mama’s boy and my dad hated him for it. His main job was to make sure that Matt did not get all of the attention. He was the one who cut the wires on my dad’s electronics and kicked a hole in the wall. When he got older, he was the one who played strip volleyball with his friends in the front yard. Girls running around topless in the front yard.  He also wrestled with my dad in the front yard over car keys which resulted in an overnight stay in the ER for my dad with heart palpitations. After awhile my parents gave up, he started driving at 14. He was also the scapegoat and received the brunt of my dad’s anger, deserved or not. 

Somehow we all managed to function. We are survivors. We made it through with our sanity intact, held by a thread.  We are strong, but not without a few battle wounds.