Hooplah.Org A Story of Graceful Stumbles

An unhappy Easter

I've gotten to the point where I hate holidays... first the magic drifted out of them, which was replaced with no feeling at all (and usually forgetting that they passed), and now I just feel frustration and anger and hurt. I just want to scream at my parents to pick up the phone, arrange something with their siblings who are all live less than an hour away, tell them to smile just a little more, pretend to be happy just for one day; make this a day without any yelling or too much silence. Anyone who gets to experience such luxuries probably does not know how lucky they are to have them. I get so angry with both of my parents... they just do not care about family, and it hurts me. Growing up, I only had pretend aunts and uncles (my parents friends), and my parents don't even keep in contact with those people anymore. Well, no, I take that back... we were close to my uncle Harry and aunt Cora, but we stopped shortly after my aunt Cora died of a heart attack when I was 5. I don't have any memories of holidays where there was a house full of people and food, while I avoided certain relatives and played with my cousins. I didn't have any of that, I was deprived of it, I am so angry for that.

It's the holidays that remind me that I will have no one left in my family once my parents pass on. Yes, I will have blood related strangers... but I don't know their names, nor could I pick any of their faces out in a crowd. Why did I have to have two parents who were both freakishly distant from all of their family... I'm sure it's not uncommon to have one parent like this, but to have two? And it's not like there's anything there that keeps them apart... they just don't want to, either out of laziness or selfishness.

The only goal I really have in life is to try to create a big, loving family... like the one I never had. One that does more than calls on holidays, but visits... I want the house full of people, the avoiding of certain relatives, seeing all the children playing together... I want that. Though, I know, deep down I will always be bitter that I never had that in my childhood... but at least I won't have to live my whole life without it.

To my day... I woke up late, around noon, even though I was in bed by 2 or 3. I stayed in bed for an extra hour and a 1/2, anyway, dreaming odd dreams. I made some popcorn and watched some movies. The only thing I said to my father was that his hair "looked good", since it was sticking up in horrible cow licks. My mother got home sometime around 3, I guess. I tried putting a mirror on the back of my door using some sticky stuff around 5, and shortly after I came out into the kitchen to see my mother finishing up the "Easter dinner," which was just some ham and potatoes. We got into an argument, about why she didn't at least call me to tell me it was ready (not because I was hungry... but just for the fact that it was Easter dinner, she could have at least cared to tell me) and she claims she did... saying she yelled at me from the end of the hallway (which, I have told her, for about 4 years now, that I CAN NOT hear her when she does that... does she ever just walk to my door to make sure I know, ever? no. Does she always make sure my dad hears, or at least answerers her? yes...). I got some ham (even though it was already covered... she was going to be putting it away soon...) and some potatoes, and came to my room. No one uttered "Happy Easter!", or anything of the like to each other. I closed my door and the mirror fell off of it with a loud bang, and layed against the wall. I sat at my computer and ate my ham and cried. I've been crying as I've been writing all of this, too.

I would have given anything to have been somewhere else today.