Tales of an Unremarkable Girl

Blood and Family

My parents didn't have me till they were in their late thirties to early forties. Three out of my four siblings were much older than us last two.

By the time we were really old enough to remember them being around they were gone. They weren't really a part of our lives once they became adults and got their own.

It didn't really matter to me if they were or not. These people were strangers to me. I didn't know them. I didn't care if they were around or not.

My sister moved out of state with her husband and I lost all contact with her. Not that I really cared. By that point I had already formed an opinion of her. By that point, I knew what kind of person she was.

She was the kind of person who had a bunch of kids that she couldn't take care of, the kind of person that would put herself and her husband first over her own children...the kind of person who would tell her daughter that she was going camping then leave state and not come back.

A good mother, a good person doesn't do that to their daughter. A good person wouldn't keep bringing kids that they can't take care of into this world.

My sister had six kids and as of today, she doesn't have any of them. Five are in foster care/adopted and one is dead.

This person isn't my family.

My oldest brother has been in and out of trouble his entire life. He can't hold a job or an apartment. He's been in and out of jail and rehab for years.

None of it has changed him. Losing his three kids hasn't changed him. Every time he gets out, he says he will do better. He says that this time will be different but it never is.

Within a week he is back on drugs, back to stealing from friends and family and even strangers. My mom refuses to turn him in. Not even if it might mean he gets the help he needs.

She gets angry when I say that maybe he needs to sit in jail longer, that maybe he needs to be stuck in rehab for more than a week. She says I shouldn't say things like that because he is my brother.

He sure didn't act very brotherly when he stole my laptop and pawned it, when he stole money from my savings account, or when he went through my room looking for money and things he could pocket.

He's currently sitting in prison for two to five years because of his choices. For being caught with meth in his possession.

Maybe this makes me a horrible person but I think it's exactly where he belongs. I think a lot of people are better off without him.

This person is not my family.

My second oldest brother has done his best to get away from all of us. To leave us behind in the past but he keeps getting pulled back in. He keeps getting pulled back under.

He has his issues, he's stubborn and proud and was cursed with our mother's quick temper. He can hold a grudge like no one else.

I must get that from him.

But he isn't around. He isn't there. He never was. He is a stranger to me, a person I've only really met a few times. He doesn't keep in touch.

I don't really mind it.

He scares me a little. More than the other two. He gets mad so quickly, his anger is violent. The difference between him and my oldest brother? He will fight dirty. He will use anything he can against you.

This person is not my family.

I have grown up hearing so many things about family. I have never once heard from my mother that they were the ones who didn't know what family is.

It's always her telling me. It's always he/she/they are family. That I shouldn't say that about them because we are related.

Blood doesn't make them family. Sharing DNA with someone does not earn them that title.

I am not required to love them or like them. I am not required to feel anything for them.

They are not family because family means respect, it means treating each other fairly. It is kindness and love and affection towards one another. It is being there for each other when times are tough.

And they have none of that to spare for us.