There could not have been a lovelier sight; but there was none to see it except a little boy who was staring in at the window. He had ecstasies innumerable that other children can never know; but he was looking through the window at the one joy from which he must be for ever barred.

Written December 14th 2012.

Who remembers cutting their knees as a child?  I do it all the time, even now, and so am now quite blasé to the whole thing.  But as a child I was terrified that I was going to die.  That's what blood means, doesn't it?  Death.

Today I am unhappy and angry.  And I have been for about over a week now.  I don't really know why.  I just know that I am.  I just want to hurt someone.  To get into a fight.  To cry.  I guess it's because it's Christmas.  I'm religious, do I don't buy into this whole Christmas is for giving, family, forgiving, loving, santa claus bullshit - it's Christ's birthday, so don't fucking have a go at me for believing and then turn around and celebrate Christmas.  Anyway, as a child this is how Christmas worked:  Christmas Day - Mum, some of her family, Dad and me.  Boxing Day - Dad's family and us.  I say and us because we've never really been a part of that family - and now we are definitely not.

Psychologists or whatever they are ask me about mental illness in my family.  I tell them, and then always add as an afterthought, 'Oh, yeah, and my grandma's a psychopath.'

I have two cousins on Dad's side of the family.  Both boys.  Both living in America with their rich parents.  Growing up, I always thought that my grandma didn't love me as much because I was a girl - maybe that is still true.  One of my cousins is like two weeks older than me, and growing up all she talked about was him.  He was absolutely wonderful.  She would have loved to lick the shit out of his nappy.  I was bloody sick of always hearing about the days out that they went on, how they went to their school and had dinner with them (Private schools are weird) and generally how wonderful and funny they were.  Mum always tried to suggest that maybe she did that with me to them, but whenever we were altogether - the topic of conversation would always be the same, him.  And he'd always sit there with a smug little grin on his face.

She and my Dad have never really got on.  Beyond me as to why.  When she had cancer, he shaved off his hair  in solidarity.  Whenever there was a job needed doing, up he went to do it.  He's smoothed over arguments between her and my Granddad.  When we all went round as a family, his siblings would be sitting in front of the TV while he would be helping out in the kitchen, 'anything I could do, mum?'  He's not wet.  He'd always saved that kind of puppy like devotion for his mum.  Like she would go on and on about my cousins, she would go on and on about her other children.  Stories about them as kids.  The only childhood story about my Dad I've ever heard from her was that he was ill as a baby and that it was terribly inconvenient.  He's always been in the shadow of his siblings.  Literally.  When walking to school, he had to walk a certain distance behind his elder brother.  There are siblings out there who are like that.  But I guess it still hurts no matter what.  Anyway, they're fine - ironically.  It's just me and my cousin who don't get on.  Well, that sounds like we argue - we don't, we just don't socialise.

Basically, over a year ago, my Dad snapped at her on the phone.  Now no one talks to each other.  It's pathetic.  I'm not having my Dad apologise for being human.  Sure he can apologise for snapping, but it was all completely blown out of proportion and she kind of handed the opportunity to him on a silver platter.

My Grandfather on my Mum's side of the family died in 2009.  I really miss him at the moment.  I keep on getting out his picture and showing it to Katie and telling her about him.  She was only a baby when he died so she won't remember him, but I want her to have some kind of memory with him.  It sounds melodramatic, because I am - but I do honestly feel like I only have one grandparent left now.  What is this feud doesn't end and they die?  Will I feel sad?  Yes, of course I will, I'm sure  that I will.  I think that I'll be devastated that we never got to make it up to them in time.  But will there also be a bit of anger there?  Anger that they didn't try - that they refused every offer of an invitation and sent back their Christmas presents to make some childish point.  Will I not feel anything at all because in some ways it is like they are dead already.  It's not like I see them.  And Katie doesn't know who they are.  She keeps on asking if they've died like Granddad Reid.  We keep on saying no, and she's young enough to let that fly by.  But what about when she's older?  She'll need an explanation about why we don't see them.  And to be honest, the explanation is pretty poor.

It's been going on so long now, I honestly don't know how I'd feel if I saw them.  I don't know if I want an apology or just to get on as normal.  Not an apology for myself obviously, but for my Dad.  And for my Mum.  And for Katie.  But if they had one for me, I might just listen and accept.  I don't know if there's anything left to salvage and that breaks my heart.

So, on Sunday 17th of December 2012, they are meeting up with my American relatives.  My other auntie's and uncle's as well.  I really miss my kin across the pond.  Even my cousin who I say that I detest.  I guess we have one of those relationships of, I see you and acknowledge your presence and when it is not there it is missed and when it is there nothing happens.  They're getting together for a big family outing where they're all going to be happy, and if the topic of our nuclear family come up - it will just be with tones of disdain for some of them.  It breaks my heart that they've forgotten any love of even just likeability that they felt for us.  It's not fair on my Mum.  It's not fair on my Dad.  And it's not fair on Katie.

See, over a year ago at a party for Katie - my grandma took me to one side and said that she knew that she'd never been there for me as a child, and so she was going to promise to always be there for Katie.  It touched me.  It really did.  But that was one of the last times we saw them.  The thought was genuine enough, but I honestly think that it's cruel how easily we were cut away.

And that not all cuts can be fixed with a plaster.