"No it's ok...I'mma let you finish"...my own uncle "Kanye'ed me...at a funeral.
Oye.
Forgive the bluntness of this. I find I can process emotion better writing and to be honest...I need to vent.
I was asked by a family member to officiate over a funeral for his mother. I prepared a message...prayed on it...tried to commit as much as I could to memory...and was honored to be asked.
The service went ok for the most part...until my time came to speak. I spoke for ten minutes about comfort, mourning and the like. I was about 2 minutes from wrapping up...when a member of my family decides to 'Kanye' me...my uncle comes down the main aisle with a friend of his...calls me boring and then proceeds to 'shuck and jive' for about 10 minutes until my cousin called a stop to it rather humourously. At that point I closed up...and things went as they were going to.
We spoke afterward and I told him that I felt that he had disrespected me...and he did apologize. I do forgive him...but man I can't say I'm not hurt today.
This uncle and I have had a real long and interesting relationship. This is a man who when I was little would LITERALLY run up three flights of stairs and one day twice (because he left his keys in his apartment and the babysitter wasn't letting us out) during a fire to carry me and my sister to safety. When he moved back here from Texas...he stayed with my parents and while he was at times strict and harsh for no real good reason...he was fun to have around. Then when he moved out and back into Rochester...I used to see him on weekends and he'd take us on grand adventures. One time he even lowered me and my cousin into a storm sewer and we walked about 200 yards to the other access where he lowered a rope and pulled us out. It was an adventure and FUN. I thought we'd always have this kind of great relationship.
I think for me it changed...around 1995. I was home from school on spring break...and my Dad was playing in Greece. Usually on those times..we'd stay at my Uncle's as it was a long haul back to Canandaigua. One time...my mother decided to order dinner for everyone. She called in an order and then sent me to get it. When I got back my Uncle stated that we could eat...as soon as my sister and I bellied up to the sink and did his dishes. Now here's the thing. 94...I was struggling with a disease I like to call 'duchebag-itis'...it meant that at most times I felt I had learned all there was to know...I was a grown up and I didn't want to be treated like a kid. SO having this 40 something man tell me to do dishes that I had NO part in dirtying didn't seem all that appealing. SO I politely said "No way...I don't do my Mom's dishes (see??? Duchebag-itis), so I'm not gonna do yours as it would be disrepectful to my mother...(see how I worked my own lack of respect for my mother and turned it around into a positive??? I'm telling you...I had some SKILLS back then). My Uncle then proceeded to say that if I didn't do it...I wouldn't eat dinner. Now here's the thing. I probably WOULD have done the dishes. Ok...maybe not. Even so...at that point I had passed the point of no return. What rankled me was A: My mother had PAID for the food and that B: I had been the one to actually GO AND GET IT! So having this 40ish year old man tell me I wasn't going to eat supper until my 'chores' were done (never mind that they weren't really MY chores...or that again...I didn't even do dishes at my mothers (and there's a part of me that genuinely thought if I backed down now...my Mom would use that to make me do dishes at her house...and eating was something I did enjoy at the time)) kicked my 'DB-itis' into overdrive...and I dug my heels in. My sister did those dishes...but I didn't. Later on I made a 'Mickey Dee's' run...and we had a good time at the club (but we didn't stay over). I thought this was settled and in a way I kinda thought that MAYBE I'd earned my Uncle's respect in a way for not backing down to his demands. Looking back...I'm kinda wondering if this wasn't the turning point for our relationship.
Fast forward some months. Thanksgiving 95. In the months since our 'discussion'...my world had DRASTICALLY alterred. My parents had moved to Las Vegas, my sister had gotten married and I'd suddenly found myself wondeirng where I fit in with my immediate family. While I did plan to go to Vegas for Christmas Break (and I did...remind me to write about that sometime)...thanksgiving just wasn't long enough to make it worth it...and I didn't want to go back to my old house that my sister had moved into...mostly because being 21 and single...I liked to go out early, come home late and with the way the house was built...there was no way to do that that didn't disrupt my sister and her husband...so I managed to arrange to stay with friends up at School. However I was invited to Thanksgiving dinner at my Aunt's house...she'd invited the whole family. I was VERY excited. I'd plan to stay up there AT LEAST 1 night...but maybe 2 (coming back on Saturday)...because in all honesty I'd missed home and family and guess I just wanted to be with people. So I came out to my Aunt's and this Uncle (who was also invited) was there. I did 'the rounds' saying hi to everyone...and then we ended up congregating in the kitchen. We all just started catching up and laughing. Then my Uncle goes and calls me 'the name'.
Let me take an aside here...when I was a little boy I had this name I called myself. It was cute and given the fact that it was SOMEWHAT accurate given my body proportions...it caught on. As I got older however...the name started to take on a more derogatory tone for me and it really started to bother me. Especially as I moved from my late teens to early 20's. When I would hear this name...it would take me back to being 2 years old and calling myself it to make my older cousins or aunts and uncles laugh AT me...and so I started asking people NOT to call me that. Most understood and complied...but this Uncle seemed to take great pleasure in using it like a cattleman uses a prod to get a rise out of me...and this day was no different.
So my Uncle calls me the 'name' and again as I was struggling with 'D-Bag-itis' I say "Hey ya know Uncle *, I'm a man now and really don't like that name. Cut it out". My uncle gets this grin...(only now do I realize...I'd given him EXACTLY what he wanted...I reacted)...and walks toward me cordially. He says "Oh yeah...you're a man." He then proceeds to punch me square across the face outta nowhere. I roll with it...but for the life of me I'm shocked. "Yep Billy...you're a man now." and he laughs. The family is kinda in shock...and for the most part it happened so fast not too many people had time to react. My one cousin said to me 'you shoulda popped him back'...but I think that's just him wanting to see what would happen. I left that night and went back to Oswego. On the way back...I sat in my car and cried like a baby. Almost the whole way home. It wasn't the fact he hit me...I could deal with that if I deserved it. I guess it was because I saw my family as a save haven. I just couldn't believe that in a place where I let my guard down so easily...and should have been able to...that someone I trusted and loved would do that to me. I called my Mom to tell her what happened (as I didn't want her getting it second hand as I was sure she would). She was upset but I talked her down. It was at that point I wrote off this Uncle in a way...and I can remember laying on my friend's couch after he'd gone to bed...and just crying because I'd never felt so alone as I did that night.
Over the years that followed...I didn't let my guard down. However...in the past few months I'd really thought we'd moved past that and gotten to a place where AT LEAST he could respect me as a person. Till last night.
For me the emotions are the same as they were in 95. I'd been punched in the face again...and like that night...while in front of everyone I smiled and was appropriate...the minute I got alone...I couldn't stop bawling. My wife asks why. Why would the opinion of someone I'd written off so long ago, and someone who OBVIOUSLY holds no respect for me as a person at all...why would that have this power over me to make me so upset and hurt? For the life of me...I can't answer that question. I can only say...it does hurt.
Maybe it's because of the memories I have of my youth with him. How I looked forward to having adventures again. Maybe it's just because he's family and for me the only things more important are my God and my Wife (in that order)...and for me I can't understand why he wouldn't feel the same...given that his Mother (and my own Mother) are whom I LEARNED that lesson from. Maybe it's just because deep down in places I don't like to see...I still see myself as little Billy Benson...and that I want people to like me for me because I tend to like them for them...maybe I'm just slap nuts crazy. I don't know.
What I know however is that what he did last night to me hurt a lot. Especially when I made a comparison to a similar time and place. In 1992 when my Grandfather passed...the funeral home brought in this minister. This minister gave an OK service...but then proceeded to speak...for a long time. 15 minutes or so into his message...he mentioned a family of his from his fellowship that had lost EVERYTHING they had in a fire. He then drew a parallel to them on how they felt ok though because the things that mattered (each member of their family) did make it out safely. He then proceeded to say 'and if anyone here would like to DONATE to this family to help get them back on their feet...see me after service and we can set something up.'. I remember looking at my mother and watching the steam come off her head...and noticed the same response in almost all of the family. It was uncouth and a tad rude...but what got me today was...noone said a thing. Last night...my Uncle felt the need to stop me during a similar message...so in my mind in a way I'm thinking 'he thinks I'm worse than THAT guy...' and maybe that's what hurts the most.
If you're family...please understand something. For me...writing is therapeutic. It's how I cope with things because sometimes I have to get these feelings out...and for me writing about it is like having a one-way conversation. I'm not trying to start 'world war 50'...or rally the troops. I have forgiven him...but like I said...I can't help wondering (as my wife does...) why does this hurt me like this? Please don't take offense.
Thanks for reading;
Forgive the bluntness of this. I find I can process emotion better writing and to be honest...I need to vent.
I was asked by a family member to officiate over a funeral for his mother. I prepared a message...prayed on it...tried to commit as much as I could to memory...and was honored to be asked.
The service went ok for the most part...until my time came to speak. I spoke for ten minutes about comfort, mourning and the like. I was about 2 minutes from wrapping up...when a member of my family decides to 'Kanye' me...my uncle comes down the main aisle with a friend of his...calls me boring and then proceeds to 'shuck and jive' for about 10 minutes until my cousin called a stop to it rather humourously. At that point I closed up...and things went as they were going to.
We spoke afterward and I told him that I felt that he had disrespected me...and he did apologize. I do forgive him...but man I can't say I'm not hurt today.
This uncle and I have had a real long and interesting relationship. This is a man who when I was little would LITERALLY run up three flights of stairs and one day twice (because he left his keys in his apartment and the babysitter wasn't letting us out) during a fire to carry me and my sister to safety. When he moved back here from Texas...he stayed with my parents and while he was at times strict and harsh for no real good reason...he was fun to have around. Then when he moved out and back into Rochester...I used to see him on weekends and he'd take us on grand adventures. One time he even lowered me and my cousin into a storm sewer and we walked about 200 yards to the other access where he lowered a rope and pulled us out. It was an adventure and FUN. I thought we'd always have this kind of great relationship.
I think for me it changed...around 1995. I was home from school on spring break...and my Dad was playing in Greece. Usually on those times..we'd stay at my Uncle's as it was a long haul back to Canandaigua. One time...my mother decided to order dinner for everyone. She called in an order and then sent me to get it. When I got back my Uncle stated that we could eat...as soon as my sister and I bellied up to the sink and did his dishes. Now here's the thing. 94...I was struggling with a disease I like to call 'duchebag-itis'...it meant that at most times I felt I had learned all there was to know...I was a grown up and I didn't want to be treated like a kid. SO having this 40 something man tell me to do dishes that I had NO part in dirtying didn't seem all that appealing. SO I politely said "No way...I don't do my Mom's dishes (see??? Duchebag-itis), so I'm not gonna do yours as it would be disrepectful to my mother...(see how I worked my own lack of respect for my mother and turned it around into a positive??? I'm telling you...I had some SKILLS back then). My Uncle then proceeded to say that if I didn't do it...I wouldn't eat dinner. Now here's the thing. I probably WOULD have done the dishes. Ok...maybe not. Even so...at that point I had passed the point of no return. What rankled me was A: My mother had PAID for the food and that B: I had been the one to actually GO AND GET IT! So having this 40ish year old man tell me I wasn't going to eat supper until my 'chores' were done (never mind that they weren't really MY chores...or that again...I didn't even do dishes at my mothers (and there's a part of me that genuinely thought if I backed down now...my Mom would use that to make me do dishes at her house...and eating was something I did enjoy at the time)) kicked my 'DB-itis' into overdrive...and I dug my heels in. My sister did those dishes...but I didn't. Later on I made a 'Mickey Dee's' run...and we had a good time at the club (but we didn't stay over). I thought this was settled and in a way I kinda thought that MAYBE I'd earned my Uncle's respect in a way for not backing down to his demands. Looking back...I'm kinda wondering if this wasn't the turning point for our relationship.
Fast forward some months. Thanksgiving 95. In the months since our 'discussion'...my world had DRASTICALLY alterred. My parents had moved to Las Vegas, my sister had gotten married and I'd suddenly found myself wondeirng where I fit in with my immediate family. While I did plan to go to Vegas for Christmas Break (and I did...remind me to write about that sometime)...thanksgiving just wasn't long enough to make it worth it...and I didn't want to go back to my old house that my sister had moved into...mostly because being 21 and single...I liked to go out early, come home late and with the way the house was built...there was no way to do that that didn't disrupt my sister and her husband...so I managed to arrange to stay with friends up at School. However I was invited to Thanksgiving dinner at my Aunt's house...she'd invited the whole family. I was VERY excited. I'd plan to stay up there AT LEAST 1 night...but maybe 2 (coming back on Saturday)...because in all honesty I'd missed home and family and guess I just wanted to be with people. So I came out to my Aunt's and this Uncle (who was also invited) was there. I did 'the rounds' saying hi to everyone...and then we ended up congregating in the kitchen. We all just started catching up and laughing. Then my Uncle goes and calls me 'the name'.
Let me take an aside here...when I was a little boy I had this name I called myself. It was cute and given the fact that it was SOMEWHAT accurate given my body proportions...it caught on. As I got older however...the name started to take on a more derogatory tone for me and it really started to bother me. Especially as I moved from my late teens to early 20's. When I would hear this name...it would take me back to being 2 years old and calling myself it to make my older cousins or aunts and uncles laugh AT me...and so I started asking people NOT to call me that. Most understood and complied...but this Uncle seemed to take great pleasure in using it like a cattleman uses a prod to get a rise out of me...and this day was no different.
So my Uncle calls me the 'name' and again as I was struggling with 'D-Bag-itis' I say "Hey ya know Uncle *, I'm a man now and really don't like that name. Cut it out". My uncle gets this grin...(only now do I realize...I'd given him EXACTLY what he wanted...I reacted)...and walks toward me cordially. He says "Oh yeah...you're a man." He then proceeds to punch me square across the face outta nowhere. I roll with it...but for the life of me I'm shocked. "Yep Billy...you're a man now." and he laughs. The family is kinda in shock...and for the most part it happened so fast not too many people had time to react. My one cousin said to me 'you shoulda popped him back'...but I think that's just him wanting to see what would happen. I left that night and went back to Oswego. On the way back...I sat in my car and cried like a baby. Almost the whole way home. It wasn't the fact he hit me...I could deal with that if I deserved it. I guess it was because I saw my family as a save haven. I just couldn't believe that in a place where I let my guard down so easily...and should have been able to...that someone I trusted and loved would do that to me. I called my Mom to tell her what happened (as I didn't want her getting it second hand as I was sure she would). She was upset but I talked her down. It was at that point I wrote off this Uncle in a way...and I can remember laying on my friend's couch after he'd gone to bed...and just crying because I'd never felt so alone as I did that night.
Over the years that followed...I didn't let my guard down. However...in the past few months I'd really thought we'd moved past that and gotten to a place where AT LEAST he could respect me as a person. Till last night.
For me the emotions are the same as they were in 95. I'd been punched in the face again...and like that night...while in front of everyone I smiled and was appropriate...the minute I got alone...I couldn't stop bawling. My wife asks why. Why would the opinion of someone I'd written off so long ago, and someone who OBVIOUSLY holds no respect for me as a person at all...why would that have this power over me to make me so upset and hurt? For the life of me...I can't answer that question. I can only say...it does hurt.
Maybe it's because of the memories I have of my youth with him. How I looked forward to having adventures again. Maybe it's just because he's family and for me the only things more important are my God and my Wife (in that order)...and for me I can't understand why he wouldn't feel the same...given that his Mother (and my own Mother) are whom I LEARNED that lesson from. Maybe it's just because deep down in places I don't like to see...I still see myself as little Billy Benson...and that I want people to like me for me because I tend to like them for them...maybe I'm just slap nuts crazy. I don't know.
What I know however is that what he did last night to me hurt a lot. Especially when I made a comparison to a similar time and place. In 1992 when my Grandfather passed...the funeral home brought in this minister. This minister gave an OK service...but then proceeded to speak...for a long time. 15 minutes or so into his message...he mentioned a family of his from his fellowship that had lost EVERYTHING they had in a fire. He then drew a parallel to them on how they felt ok though because the things that mattered (each member of their family) did make it out safely. He then proceeded to say 'and if anyone here would like to DONATE to this family to help get them back on their feet...see me after service and we can set something up.'. I remember looking at my mother and watching the steam come off her head...and noticed the same response in almost all of the family. It was uncouth and a tad rude...but what got me today was...noone said a thing. Last night...my Uncle felt the need to stop me during a similar message...so in my mind in a way I'm thinking 'he thinks I'm worse than THAT guy...' and maybe that's what hurts the most.
If you're family...please understand something. For me...writing is therapeutic. It's how I cope with things because sometimes I have to get these feelings out...and for me writing about it is like having a one-way conversation. I'm not trying to start 'world war 50'...or rally the troops. I have forgiven him...but like I said...I can't help wondering (as my wife does...) why does this hurt me like this? Please don't take offense.
Thanks for reading;
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