No Wonder I Felt Like an Afterthought

No Wonder I Felt Like an Afterthought

I’ve been spending a lot of time reflecting on my life while growing, healing, and becoming a better woman. One memory I have has stuck with me. 

My brother was very sick as a baby and toddler. He spent a good portion of that time in the hospital and our mother stayed there with him. That left me and Dad. For some reason that I honestly don’t understand (and cannot accept), my father and his parents were unwilling to care for me. My dad worked full-time and I think that my grandfather was still working then, too. My grandmother was a housewife with paid help in the house. My maternal grandmother worked full-time and lived 2 hours away. Since no one would care for me, I lived with neighbors. I don’t recall if it was for a week, a month, or a few months. I vaguely remember my father dropping me off and picking me up at their house. I know that it wasn’t daily and that I was at the neighbors’ home for days at a time. I remember sleeping there and eating my meals there. I remember my maternal grandmother coming every weekend to get me and taking care of me back at our house. 

Why didn’t my paternal grandmother take care of me? Why didn’t she ever babysit me (except for that time that my mother tricked her into it)? Why did she treat me that way? I was the first grandchild and my brother and I were the only grandchildren who lived locally.

Why didn’t my father take care of me? I understand that he had a lot on his plate working full-time and wanting to be there for his wife and baby. But he had another child who also needed him. (Unfortunately, this is something that he never understood or, maybe, was willing to admit. He certainly never apologized for it though he had plenty of chances prior to his death.)

For me, this was just the beginning. My brother lived (which was not expected) and he was treated with kid gloves and got to do whatever he wanted. I, on the other hand, was abused, used, and neglected. My maternal grandmother was the only one who treated me the same as she treated my brother and we were both spoiled by her.

I always felt like I, as their child/grandchild, and my well-being was an afterthought to them. Looking back now, I was less than an afterthought; they never seemed to consider me at all. When I was a child it was because they were more concerned about my brother being kept alive. As we both grew older, they were afraid of hurting my brother or angering my brother. They were so thankful that he was alive that he could do no wrong in their eyes. As an adult I have learned to live with these feelings and have built a life where I do not treat others that way, surrounding myself with people who see me and care about me.

No one should feel like an afterthought to their parents. No one.