Family Secrets

         "Jere, you need to confront her about it," I heard my mother say to one of her nine siblings over the phone, "I mean that's a lot of money! I know it's not the best situation -- she's your niece and all..."
 
         My family always had their fair share of problems. Five boys and four girls growing up in a small house with an abusive father. The boys were wild, and three of the four girls got pregnant while still in high school. I've always understood life wasn't easy, especially when my own mom reminds me.
 
         
"You think you have it so bad, but when I was growing up I'd never dream..." There are the stories where all of them share one bathroom, or how there were only three beds for the entire family, and most of all the stories of how their parents always forgot about their birthdays.
 
         
I remember when she got that phone call. My uncle had hired his niece to work at the front desk of his mechanic shop and found out that she stole around thirty thousand dollars, cumulatively, through the years. It was the eldest's, Joice's, daughter.
 
         
The family held a meeting where Michelle and my Aunt were confronted about the situation, but they weren't very happy. They ended up storming out, cussing loudly, accusing things back obnoxiously and Joice left with the last words, "I hate this fucking family."
 
         
The "fucking" family never got a chance to talk to her again. Everyone tried for months, they wrote letters, sent her a birthday card, still, but she never responded.
 
         
What I didn't know then, and wish I didn't know now, was why my uncle Tim, from my dad's side of the family, had mysteriously disappeared around the same time. When we got together for Christmas it was said that he had to work, for Easter; work, for Sunday brunch; work. It didn't come until two years later, at his own father's funeral that it was said he was in jail.
 
         
His mother had to cry for the loss of her husband and son, that day. Nothing is as apparent about your family as when someone dies. I learned this young.
 
         
What I also learned young was that my uncle was in jail for doing terrible things to his step children. He cost himself the own loss of his family, because his wife left him and immediately took him to court.
 
         
Around this time in my life, where all these stories were wrapping together, I was beginning to doubt the meaning of family. What always turned me around, though, was how united my parents seemed to be through it all. They were the epitome of, "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."
 
         
I didn't know fully, how united they were until my family moved across the country. This forced me to leave all my friends and my school, everything you have at a young age, and it was even worse that I didn't have one reason why.
 
         
"It's complicated." My mother would say as she stroked her fingers through my hair with her infinitely soft hands. It wasn't enough though. I needed reasons and this caused me to become severely depressed. There was nothing for me in Wisconsin, it was nothing like Arizona and no one liked me. Eventually my depression and low self-esteem lead to anorexia.
 
         
My mother one day snatched me from the computer and told me we were going for a drive. This is when she told me the truth.
 
         
When they were first married, they were very tight on money and my dad was working two jobs while in college. They were living at mother's parent's house, and in the most stressful time of their lives my dad crashed.
 
         
"He'd basically molested Tina," she said, and it cut. Tina was the youngest of the nine children in her family and according to my mom was only thirteen when this occurred.
 
         
"She was young and she had issues, it wasn't entirely your father," she explained to me while I was holding back tears, "she tried desperately to get attention and seduced your father, until he eventually gave in. He should've known better..."
 
         
Then she explained that my Grandpa had taken my father to court and he was plastered with a felony. He couldn't find a job so they moved to Arizona, and when enough time passed for it to be safe and eligible to move back, they did. She explained how all this was a secret and told be never to tell anyone
 
         
I admitted back to my mother that when I was about five, I was molested by an older boy from the neighborhood. He'd find me when I was alone and tell me to come with him into the woods. This happened about five times until I couldn't even look him in the eyes anymore or say a word back at all.
 
         
My mother cried when I told her, but said that family was the only thing I'd keep my entire life and said I needed to cherish it. It was hard, but I believed her even if it seemed like my family was falling apart.
 
         
As if on cue, my mom received a phone call late that night that said Joice had cancer. All nine children of my mother's family and their parent's flew out to Arizona, where she lived, to see her.
 
         
Joice responded by telling them she hated them all and forcing them to leave the hospital. She died two months later never saying another word to them again. The entire family, since then, has been in constant battles and nothing is ever at ease anymore. Nothing becomes so apparent in a family until someone dies.