I'll be the first to admit I haven't put enough personal posts on TheWordslinger. You'd think I would know better since of all the articles I write on here - be they pop culture related, Churchianity (there will be more, I promise), or what's going on in my real life - the ones that get the most comments are those last two. And ... since I had an AMAZING day yesterday (February 1st, 2010), I was encouraged by a friend to share it on here. I've never been much good at journaling - perhaps one page every five years - because basically I save all that stuff as fodder for my fiction. But for shits and giggles, I'm going to try something on here today that I never have. This will be the most personal article I have ever posted TheWordslinger. Here goes ...

I have mentioned on here before that, although I have family scattered across the country, I am estranged from damn near all of them. From my mother's side of the family because of issues pertaining to the aforementioned Churchianity. And from my father's side of the family due to things the man was doing in my childhood which NO FATHER SHOULD EVER DO much less one who presumes to man a pulpit and lead a congregation. When my sister and I confronted him about these heinous matters a decade ago, he basically cursed us, washed his hands of us, booted us out of the family, and made damn sure that he spread enough false rumors about us to his kin to ensure that anything we might say about him would be completely discredited. To make US look crazy, and himself look like the victimized good guy.

And so, for the past decade, I have basically considered myself an orphan - albeit one with plenty of close blood ties still living. I spent this time in deep reflection, trying to figure out who I was apart from these crazy people. This journey of self-discovery - in which I re-embraced the faith of my youth, while still utterly condemning the Churchianity with which I was poisoned on a daily basis - was extremely painful, but ultimately rewarding. I got one of those rewards just yesterday.

Over the past few months, I have been contacted through my web pages by two people in my father's family: my half-sister Heidi, and my cousin Lisa. Both were very relieved and surprised to see that I was doing so well ... especially since they had both heard differing rumors about my unfortunate demise. My cousin had heard from my father that I had gone mad, and for the past few years was a crazy drug addict who was living on the street. While I assured her that this was never the case, I discovered that different lies about me had been spread to others in the family. Whatever would ensure my complete and utter unreliability in case I ever tried sharing those earlier accusations around.

Sister Heidi and cousin Lisa both listened with patience and compassion to my side of the story, and have had much to think about over the past few months.

I, at the time, had been extremely nervous about associating with ANYONE from my family, simply because I had been away so long, and it had never even crossed my mind to wonder if I would ever be so healthy and secure in my own identity that I could ... return safely to that fold.

Thanks to FaceBook, I learned yesterday that Heidi and Lisa were planning to have lunch at a Red Robin in town. They even put down a time and directions. Figuring (hoping) it would be a nice surprise if I showed up unexpectedly and bought lunch for them ... I did so. They were indeed thrilled to see me, and we had a wonderful time. Afterward, cousin Lisa and I went to visit her parents, my aunt and uncle, whom I had not seen in 15 years. While I was extremely nervous at first - God only knew what horrible falsehoods they had heard about me -  they could not have made me feel more welcome. As I shared the TRUE story of what I had been up to over the past decade, that I was doing great and about to get my first novel published, I learned that they too had heard of my destruction, insanity, and downfall. They were extremely relieved to learn that this was not the case. Then my uncle added: “Grandma thinks you're dead.”

My immediate response to that was, “She does? Well, let's go take care of that right now.”

My grandmother - who I had also not seen since 1995 - lives in a nursing home nearby. Next month she will be 96 years old. For a woman pushing 100, she is remarkably sharp. She zooms around her residence in a little scooter which makes me think of The Little Old Lady From Pasadena: Go Granny, go Granny, go Granny go! Now granted, my father's family has never been overly emotional or affectionate, so when my cousin Lisa and I went to see my Grandma, and I first knelt down to greet her, her response was shocking to me. I said, “Hi Grandma, it's Andy.” It took her a moment, but she took my hand and, with tears in her eyes, gasped and replied, “I can't believe it's you. Oh, Andy, I am so glad you're all right. I'm so glad you came to see me.”

We visited for an hour or two, as I filled her in on what I had really been up to over the past 15 years. I also shared a discreet version of why my father and I have not spoken for the last decade. I went about this meeting prayerfully - not wanting to upset her by saying too much, nor confuse her by saying too little - and I could not have asked for a better result. I merely said that my sister and I had made some horrific allegations to him 10 years ago, wherein he disowned us, and set about ensuring that we were not only ousted from the family, but rendered completely unreliable. There are those members of my father's family who have fully believed whatever gross lies have been told regarding my sister and me, and while it breaks my heart to not be able to talk to them (yes, I am talking about you, Rick - I miss you, brother), I have to believe that the TRUTH will someday come out. Yesterday's visit with my sister, cousin, aunt, uncle, and grandma may well be the start of it.

When Lisa and I were about to leave, my grandmother took my hand again, thanked me profusely for coming to see her, and said, “The mystery is solved.”

As Lisa and I left, I told her, “When my dad finds out about this visit, he is going to be PISSED! Grandma will probably give him an earful.”

“Thursday,” Lisa said. “He's coming to see her on Thursday.”

My response to this news? While at one time it may have been a neurotic meltdown, I simply don't care. I have carried the weight of this man's sins around for far too long. I do not wish him ill - I have, in fact, forgiven him - but I simply don't care how he reacts.

While oft times we cannot see changes in ourselves because we are too close to the matter - forest for the trees - in this instance I not only SEE the change in myself, I am somewhat staggered by it. I am no longer defined by my past. I know who I am, where I've been, what I've gone through, and where I am going ... or at least Who I trust to take me there.

And that, for me, is incredible progress.

So, there it is. The story of my amazing day.

Opinions? Thoughts? Can you relate?

Leave a comment below and let me know.