In all fairness to the grandparents, it was hard to ask them especially my grandmother who had raised ten children three of whom were still at home when I was a young child. Particularly, it must have been hard on my grandfather who was the only one who worked to have so many mouths to feed; although they allowed that situation to happen.
Kudos to them for stepping up to the plate when our fathers did not, especially since the property we lived on was not theirs and I am sure the landlords (the church) was looking on with bated breath to see when the house would fall apart at the seams.
My mother was a very abusive woman towards me and it is particularly saddening to realize that while I was being mistreated no one came to my defense. However, I must say that my grandfather was not very tolerant of children crying so I think I was saved many times from her wrath when he was at home.
I endured many brutal beatings as far back as I can remember when I started remembering. Somehow I had developed coping mechanisms that caused me to push each incident so far down that as the years passed, they took the memories with them. Nevertheless, the feelings of being unwanted and worthless remained and shaped my view of the world which remains with me.
Many things happened throughout my life, mostly bad, but I have always managed to trudge along through them despite the crippling blows they dealt to me. One particular memory which recently resurfaced, however, reminded me just how bad it was.
It is a memory of me telling my schoolmate that I was not born here.
I thought about it for a while before coming to the conclusion why I would tell such a lie.
As I thought about it more memories began to resurface. I started to remember telling myself that I was with the wrong family and that my real family would come soon to get me. As the years passed, it became abundantly clear that my family was not coming, so I started to tell myself that I was not born here. My family was abroad and that was the reason it was taking so long for them to get here.
About the same time, I had started high school (twelve years) and was making new friends, or so I thought. I did not realize it at the time but the beatings had stopped and I am guessing that because I was bigger and tall for my age she probably feared that I would start retaliating, however, the abusive language continued or the complete ignoring of my existence.
There must have been some incident where my mother had cussed me out that prompted me to tell my classmate this obvious lie. I really do not like liars or lying but in my defense it was a lie that helped me keep my sanity for many years which did not hurt anyone but me.
I am sure it would have been repeated and twittered over so I am happy they got a good laugh at my expense.