A family tradition

Have you ever seen businesses with names like Smith and Son? I always imagine they started off just plain old Smith. Then one day Smith Jr. decides he likes what Smith Sr. is doing enough that he wants to learn how. Eventually Smith Jr. likes it so much and he's so good at it that Smith Sr. excitedly invites him into the business. Smith Sr. makes it official and throws "Son" up on the sign.

I then imagine it goes to the next level and Smith Jr. has a son of his own. The process is repeated and it's a full on family tradition.

Unfortunately you see on news how there are other family traditions. Have you ever seen mug shots of a family splashed across the evening news? I remember seeing a mother and two sons in a recent story where they were arrested for drug trafficking. Another family tradition, but not necessarily one to be proud of.

In my family there was a tradition of secrets and shame. Unfortunately those traditions led to other traditions such as alcoholism, drug abuse, and low self-esteem.

I'd like to say that I was the only person in my family ever sexually abused. I wasn't. I'd also like to say that my brother was the only one who ever sexually abused someone. He wasn't.

It was after WWII and my grandfather came home to find his life no longer as he remembered. The war had changed him, but his family had changed while he was gone. I won't go into all of the details because that's that's not my story to tell. The part I feel is mine to tell is how he began to sexually abuse his daughters, my mother.

When I knew him, he was an alcoholic. My grandmother was also an alcoholic. I believe their addiction was a direct result of trying to bury the ugly truth. I'm sure they never talked of it. Both of their daughters married quickly to "the first guy to show interest" in order to get out of their father's house (their words).

My mother's mother visited us every summer for a few weeks. I would usually take up residence in my brother's lower bunk bed as my grandmother took my room. At Christmastime my grandparents would come to town, but they never stayed at our home. It wasn't until I was a teenager that I learned that my mother couldn't sleep if he was in the same house.

When I was a teenager I was sent to spend the summers with my grandparents along with my younger siblings. I remember my mother telling me to never stay home alone with my grandfather. She also made me promise to take my sisters with me whenever I left the house. I agreed and figured it was because of his alcoholism.

The next summer when she asked me to promise the same thing I asked her why. I recognized the look of fear in her eyes. She recounted for me the story of her sister's sexual abuse. She then explained how her sister ended up pregnant by her boyfriend so she would have to get married and leave. She told of her hatred toward her sister leaving her behind, knowing he would turn to her. Which he did.

I felt sorry for my mother. She endured not only sexual, but physical and emotional abuse. She was abused by the person who should have been her protector. As most girls were looking for men to marry like their fathers, she was looking for anyone to take her away from her father and her secret.

Can you imagine these two sisters' pain? Both were sexually abused by their father. Then each had a son/stepson who sexually abused her daughter(s). The guilt which wrapped their shame had to have been so hard to carry. I didn't dare tell my mother that I had been abused by my brother for four years before he moved on to my next younger sister. She didn't need to know my secret and shame, hers was enough for her to carry.

I'm guessing it's no surprise to you that my mother also became an alcoholic. She's never admitted it though. She believes drinking a six pack or more each day by yourself is just a family tradition.