When I turned 50, I decided that it was time for me to begin to form my own family. Why? Because many close family members seemed reluctant to come to one another’s assistance. If that wasn’t hard enough to bear, often close family members would work in direct opposition to you behind your back and the victims feared to speak to me. I figured it out on my own, finally, after living through 7 years of this life with the same psychiatrist guiding me through the solid steppingstones that led the way out of the hole where suicide and opiate addiction are neighbors.
Now that I am free to choose my own family, life has become bright and sunny. Naturally, I kept those of my family members who trusted and believed me. I made sure that they had all of the information that they needed to make a fair and equitable decision on the law and facts of the cases I presented to them.
I ended contact with those who did not mean me well, who I regret to say were my mother and my sister. That was the most difficult decision I have ever made. It took decades of tension and torment. The second most difficult? Explaining to the children of my sister why I needed to remove myself from her scrutiny.
After my mother died, I foreswore contacting my nieces, in the hope that my absence will keep my sister’s rage in abeyance. If my nieces pay any attention to me at all, my sister makes their lives miserable. I wish I had contact with them, but I am not going to interfere with the relationship they have with their mother. I am always ready, however, to support their decisions and offer advice whenever asked.
So, my immediate family consists of three parakeets, aka budgies. The boy budgie is Chickie. The two girl budgies are named Pinky and Pia. They serve as comic relief around here. I get their sense of humor, but they don’t always get mine.