Storytelling is so important in Black culture because it reveals all the truths about who we are, and who we come from. Often times, the closest stories share insights that help us heal ourselves.
Honestly, I almost forgot I wrote this but am so moved by reading my own raw emotion all over again. It brought me to tears reading this because Im learning the hard way that it’s SO important for us to look back in order to move forward—not in a way that we use it as a crutch but in a way that allows us to learn more about ourselves and why we act and speak the way we do and why we behave and interact in certain ways based on who and where we come from. Praying you all find as much solace and courage in the piece as I found writing it. Thank you so much for believing in and publishing the piece Jacquie!
This is such a beautifully important piece. Especially the part about swearing off men who share the same cultural background, there’s definitely something to be said about that. Thank you for this 💗
Reading this as my half Jamaican baby sleeps on my chest lol but I second your grad school swear off. :)
On a serious note, thank you for this piece. My maternal grandfather died years before I was born, and although my paternal grandfather was in my life occasionally, due to living in different cities, we never formed a real relationship. I've never thought about the impact of that but now you've given me something to think about.
This made me think about my grandfathers: one, a kind and funny storyteller who always showed up, always had a smile, always was gentle. The other, a musician whose alcoholism made him turn from a charming entertainer to a violent monster. And how I saw patterns repeat in every generation that echoed aspects of each man. Even when someone is only a rare presence in our lives, they somehow exert a gravitational force, a fly-by pull of the emotions and thoughts. The abuser's child makes decisions based on that abuse--that play out for their children. The absent parent's child determines never to leave. The staying parent finds their children unwilling to take a chance on marriage, because it means ongoing misery. We try to avoid the pitfalls we have seen in their lives...but find new ones cropping up in our own. Connecting the dots. That seems to be all we can do.
But find new ones creeping up in our own. Mmmm I felt this one in my soul. I am consistently trying to unlearn and undo unhealthy patterns of behavior that I picked up from my family of origin. It’s hard work.
With gratitude, I thank you for your words and your memories living out loud and on the digital page. I can relate to elements of your experience, and as I’ve grown older, I’ve realized that my parents silence regarding their parents is absolutely rooted in a combination of love, pain, respect, and resentment. All of these emotions can co-exist and they can show up in unexpected ways. Sadly, we aren’t taught how to handle them all when they come our way.
Whew. Once I grew up and learned we were my maternal grandfather’s “other” family, so much about his relationship and dynamic with my family made sense. He had a whole wife, kids, and grandkids on the literal other side of town.
My older sister had informed the family that she called our father and discovered that his father was in the hospital after a fall. I just... couldn't feel anything. I couldn't even say, "Oh. I'm sorry." I'm struggling with my own relationship with my father because he was never really around due to him being in an army. His family host reunion regularly but I would always find out about it after it had been done. I was never invited. I want the relationship with both my father and his father. I want to know him more. I want to know his family. I want to know our history. But I'm learning to accept that while I am indeed hurt from their lack of presence... I've long learned how to live with a big hole of my identity.
You know what? I answered "No" to the survey, but upon reflection, that's a lie.
I was very close to my paternal grandfather. He lived until I was in my 40s, and it still makes my eyes tingle a bit when I think about the last time I was with him.
But I had no relationship whatsoever with my maternal grandfather. I think for a moment, I forgot about him because I quickly clicked the "No grandfather issues" button before realizing that one of my grandfathers hovered in my life like a ghost. I didn't cry for him at his funeral. I cried for how loving and close he was to my much younger cousins. They were devastated by his loss. I wept for the bond I never experienced with him.
Wow, this brought up thoughts and feelings that I haven’t experienced in a while. I have 2 sets of grandparent issues. Both of my grandmothers passed before I was born. I knew my paternal grandfather briefly. He passed when I was seven. Most of my memories are of him sick. I have clear memories of sitting on his lap one time. My maternal grandfather was my mother’s stepfather. I found out he wasn’t her biological father when I was young. He remarried before I was born. He raised my mother from a toddler. We lived in the same city until I was about 5 or 6. After he retired he relocated back to his hometown and my mother’s birth town in Alabama. After that the relationship was strained by distance. We received birthday cards and probably saw him 1-2 times per year. He passed just as I was finishing undergrad.
My first set of issues was their overall absence. I never really experienced the pure love and joy of grandparents. Of course my parents loved me and my siblings but watching them now as grandparents, I realize the gift I missed out on. So the idea of someone being genuinely excited about me with no strings and solely wanting to love me in a care-free way. That’s something i had a hard time believing.
The second set of issues was that I adored my maternal grandfather. I thought he adored us. I thought he didn’t feel any different between his biological children and my mom. I found out there was a difference. He didnt leave my mother anything. Even though when her mother passed, after 25 years of marriage, he received some her family property. To me if he didn’t fully accept my mother, that meant he didn’t fully accept us. Her bio dad also refused to have a relationship with her when she reached out as an adult. So I think I took on some of that pain when I learned about it. The way things ended with my grandfather, I was left being unable to trust anyone not related by blood. I always feared that a line would be drawn even if some love was present. I know that that has shown up in unrequited relationships. I don’t think I ever internalized as something inherently wrong with us, but it definitely shaped my view of humanity and my life experiences bore all of that out.
Thank you for writing this. Your intro story, writing about the experiences with your father's reaching to your grandfather remind me of my own experiences in ways. My paternal grandfather and my own father have been absent most of my life, but recently I had an experience where I saw the little boy raised by my grandfather due to the latter's aging and dementia. So many generational traumas passed on; so much pain ignored.
Moving forward means acknowledging what's happened. Acknowledging how it's impacted you, while recognizing how you'd like to feel. I really appreciate this, what you've brought forth.
Thank you for writing this. Your intro story, writing about the experiences with your father's reaching to your grandfather remind me of my own experiences in ways. My paternal grandfather and my own father have been absent most of my life, but recently I had an experience where I saw the little boy raised by my grandfather due to the latter's aging and dementia. So many generational traumas passed on; so much pain ignored.
Moving forward means acknowledging what's happened. Acknowledging how it's impacted you, while recognizing how you'd like to feel. I really appreciate this, what you've brought forth.
Honestly, I almost forgot I wrote this but am so moved by reading my own raw emotion all over again. It brought me to tears reading this because Im learning the hard way that it’s SO important for us to look back in order to move forward—not in a way that we use it as a crutch but in a way that allows us to learn more about ourselves and why we act and speak the way we do and why we behave and interact in certain ways based on who and where we come from. Praying you all find as much solace and courage in the piece as I found writing it. Thank you so much for believing in and publishing the piece Jacquie!
This is such a beautifully important piece. Especially the part about swearing off men who share the same cultural background, there’s definitely something to be said about that. Thank you for this 💗
Reading this as my half Jamaican baby sleeps on my chest lol but I second your grad school swear off. :)
On a serious note, thank you for this piece. My maternal grandfather died years before I was born, and although my paternal grandfather was in my life occasionally, due to living in different cities, we never formed a real relationship. I've never thought about the impact of that but now you've given me something to think about.
LOL @ half Jamaican baby, amen girl shoutout to us 🙋🏽♀️ Glad the piece is provoking thought!
This made me think about my grandfathers: one, a kind and funny storyteller who always showed up, always had a smile, always was gentle. The other, a musician whose alcoholism made him turn from a charming entertainer to a violent monster. And how I saw patterns repeat in every generation that echoed aspects of each man. Even when someone is only a rare presence in our lives, they somehow exert a gravitational force, a fly-by pull of the emotions and thoughts. The abuser's child makes decisions based on that abuse--that play out for their children. The absent parent's child determines never to leave. The staying parent finds their children unwilling to take a chance on marriage, because it means ongoing misery. We try to avoid the pitfalls we have seen in their lives...but find new ones cropping up in our own. Connecting the dots. That seems to be all we can do.
But find new ones creeping up in our own. Mmmm I felt this one in my soul. I am consistently trying to unlearn and undo unhealthy patterns of behavior that I picked up from my family of origin. It’s hard work.
With gratitude, I thank you for your words and your memories living out loud and on the digital page. I can relate to elements of your experience, and as I’ve grown older, I’ve realized that my parents silence regarding their parents is absolutely rooted in a combination of love, pain, respect, and resentment. All of these emotions can co-exist and they can show up in unexpected ways. Sadly, we aren’t taught how to handle them all when they come our way.
Whew. Once I grew up and learned we were my maternal grandfather’s “other” family, so much about his relationship and dynamic with my family made sense. He had a whole wife, kids, and grandkids on the literal other side of town.
My older sister had informed the family that she called our father and discovered that his father was in the hospital after a fall. I just... couldn't feel anything. I couldn't even say, "Oh. I'm sorry." I'm struggling with my own relationship with my father because he was never really around due to him being in an army. His family host reunion regularly but I would always find out about it after it had been done. I was never invited. I want the relationship with both my father and his father. I want to know him more. I want to know his family. I want to know our history. But I'm learning to accept that while I am indeed hurt from their lack of presence... I've long learned how to live with a big hole of my identity.
P.S. Thank you for making me bawl lmao.
You know what? I answered "No" to the survey, but upon reflection, that's a lie.
I was very close to my paternal grandfather. He lived until I was in my 40s, and it still makes my eyes tingle a bit when I think about the last time I was with him.
But I had no relationship whatsoever with my maternal grandfather. I think for a moment, I forgot about him because I quickly clicked the "No grandfather issues" button before realizing that one of my grandfathers hovered in my life like a ghost. I didn't cry for him at his funeral. I cried for how loving and close he was to my much younger cousins. They were devastated by his loss. I wept for the bond I never experienced with him.
Wow, this brought up thoughts and feelings that I haven’t experienced in a while. I have 2 sets of grandparent issues. Both of my grandmothers passed before I was born. I knew my paternal grandfather briefly. He passed when I was seven. Most of my memories are of him sick. I have clear memories of sitting on his lap one time. My maternal grandfather was my mother’s stepfather. I found out he wasn’t her biological father when I was young. He remarried before I was born. He raised my mother from a toddler. We lived in the same city until I was about 5 or 6. After he retired he relocated back to his hometown and my mother’s birth town in Alabama. After that the relationship was strained by distance. We received birthday cards and probably saw him 1-2 times per year. He passed just as I was finishing undergrad.
My first set of issues was their overall absence. I never really experienced the pure love and joy of grandparents. Of course my parents loved me and my siblings but watching them now as grandparents, I realize the gift I missed out on. So the idea of someone being genuinely excited about me with no strings and solely wanting to love me in a care-free way. That’s something i had a hard time believing.
The second set of issues was that I adored my maternal grandfather. I thought he adored us. I thought he didn’t feel any different between his biological children and my mom. I found out there was a difference. He didnt leave my mother anything. Even though when her mother passed, after 25 years of marriage, he received some her family property. To me if he didn’t fully accept my mother, that meant he didn’t fully accept us. Her bio dad also refused to have a relationship with her when she reached out as an adult. So I think I took on some of that pain when I learned about it. The way things ended with my grandfather, I was left being unable to trust anyone not related by blood. I always feared that a line would be drawn even if some love was present. I know that that has shown up in unrequited relationships. I don’t think I ever internalized as something inherently wrong with us, but it definitely shaped my view of humanity and my life experiences bore all of that out.
Thank you for writing this. Your intro story, writing about the experiences with your father's reaching to your grandfather remind me of my own experiences in ways. My paternal grandfather and my own father have been absent most of my life, but recently I had an experience where I saw the little boy raised by my grandfather due to the latter's aging and dementia. So many generational traumas passed on; so much pain ignored.
Moving forward means acknowledging what's happened. Acknowledging how it's impacted you, while recognizing how you'd like to feel. I really appreciate this, what you've brought forth.
Thank you for writing this. Your intro story, writing about the experiences with your father's reaching to your grandfather remind me of my own experiences in ways. My paternal grandfather and my own father have been absent most of my life, but recently I had an experience where I saw the little boy raised by my grandfather due to the latter's aging and dementia. So many generational traumas passed on; so much pain ignored.
Moving forward means acknowledging what's happened. Acknowledging how it's impacted you, while recognizing how you'd like to feel. I really appreciate this, what you've brought forth.