David - 'Get Deeper Robb'

Elevator pitch

What do you do, Robb?

I help people tell their stories before they’re lost.

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David said, ‘Get deeper Robb’. So, this first draft of digging on this Sunday afternoon. This will become much deeper (I think).

Who gets me?

I never knew how my parent’s words could affect me for much of my life. They were words they never meant to hurt.

Those words stung and changed how I thought of myself and my actions. They drove me to ‘make a fuss’, to say ‘look at me’, ‘pay attention to me!’

I lived with these words and their effect until I was a young adult.

It was in the early 1960’s. We were a family of seven; parents and two older sisters, aged 14 and 13. Twin sisters, aged six. And me, age 10.

It was the twin’s birthday, and we were in our kitchen booth which held the whole family.

After the birthday cake, my parents said they have a special present for the twins. They announced that each older girl will become a partner with one of the younger twins. Each would be a team of two, and each older sister would help the younger twin with all there was to do: keeping their room clean, making their beds, helping clean the kitchen, loading our brand-new dishwasher, and walking safely to school.

Our parents announced that Joan would partner with Brenda, and Kathy would get Sheila.

I waited. And waited. Then the question came silently: Who gets me?

I looked to my parents. To Mom. To Dad. To my sisters.

Who gets me? Am I not important enough to be someone’s partner?

No one asked, ‘Who gets Robb?’ I thought I would now live alone in my own family. That birthday night I went to bed and cried. We are a family of seven. Everyone has a partner, except me

50 years later I asked my father if he remembered how the girls became partners, and his one son didn’t. “I guess we felt you just didn’t need one” he said. “And you could always talk to me.” 15 years earlier he had come back a hero as a Canadian gunner in the war. He was a loveable man, but not a talker. The girls seemed to be having fun in the twins’ bedroom, or Joan’s and Kathy’s. I thought I’d try to connect with my mother.

I failed. Mother was on the verge of becoming an alcoholic, and even when sober was argumentative and difficult to talk to. I tried with the skills I had, but we always bumped heads ending in someone screaming and leaving the room. Maybe we were just too much alike?

I continued to wonder why no one wanted me on their team. I was smart but could still feel the anger at not being picked by my own family. I felt the world was against me. No one will pay attention to me.

It came to a head in the Catholic boys’ high school that I began to attend in grade 10.

Apparently, I was a ‘shit disturber. My marks were low, and I was seen at the front of most student ‘disturbances. I was rude to the teachers. I got the strap often and was finally kicked out iof the school in the Spring of grade 10, again alone with no friends or teachers I could trust. I could study at home and go back to write my exams, if I wanted to.

I didn’t think anyone wanted me on their team.

Except Joanne.

I dated her in the summer after grade ten. We didn’t hang out with a bunch of other kids, but rather did ‘quiet’ dates, like weird movies or walks along the river.

One night, because I really liked, no, trusted her, I told her about “Who gets me.” I know now she was wise beyond her years.

“Your parents love you and will tell you when you tell them” she said softly. “Same with your sisters.”

She was gentle. “My parents told me there’s no brochure on how to raise kids. And they’re doing the best they can with the tools they have.”

And then she said the words I will remember forever. She looked into my eyes and said very slowly - “If you want love, you’ve got to give love.”

As we have grown up, I wanted to find her, look into here eyes, and tell her I think I was in love with her back them. I found one of her old friends who told me she died of a brain tumor two years ago.

“Who gets me” now? Everyone who takes my love, as I welcome theirs.

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AFTERWORD:

AFTER EACH of my stories I ASK THE READER IF THEY HAVE A STORY ON THE THEME OF WHAT THEY JUST READ:

eg. Have you got a story about someone whose love you wanted. Or the joy of telling them you loved them? Tell that story. Let your descendants learn this about you.