My Why
My Reason for Writing
by Yvonne Andes
Why am I writing a book? Sucker for punishment? Honestly, sometimes I wonder, this is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done!
I’m writing this book for my children and grandchildren. I want to offer them a glimpse into my life, who I was, why I did some of the things I’ve done, and, more importantly, their history and the truth of our family.
No one in our family ever talked about our history unless it was one of the many fabricated tales they seemed determined to tell. Wanting to portray themselves as paragons of virtue and practically perfect in every way.
Fortunately, my grandmother and aunt Natalie spilled their guts to me for about a year, telling the truth about all that had happened to them. It helped me understand them better than if I had never heard their stories. That’s important, I think, understanding the why of someone.
The made-up stories the rest of the family told were confusing; the facts were never the same. Depending on who was telling the story, the family went from extraordinary to near sainthood. That kind of thinking messed up my cousins and me, and we didn’t do our children any favors. Although we did better than our parents, we could have done more.
We didn’t know how messed up we had all been by our par t’s lies until we had our first pajama party. (Which will be a chapter in my book) I was in my late fifties, two cousins were in their late sixties, and one was seventy. We were all a bit nervous when we first got together. After all, we had never really spent time together growing up and had only heard bits and pieces of each other’s lives over the years.
I had assumed they were all perfect and were blessed with perfect lives, perfect children, and so on. When I suggested a cousin’s pajama party, they all became excited, and I became afraid. What was I thinking? We gathered for two nights at my cousin Barbara’s cottage in Pacific Grove.
And then, fueled by alcohol, the discussions began. The laughter at first disguised the pain of our lifetimes and, more importantly, started us off on the road to healing. That gave birth to the idea of this book. The cousins all said, “We should write a book”! And after several years of these quarterly PJ parties, it became “you write the book for us”! And when you’ve been drinking and having fun, it sounds like such a great idea!
As I delved into the family history and began to record it, the foundation of this book expanded. I realized that my kids only knew bits and pieces of my life, even less about the ancestors, and as my mentor, Judy says, if I didn’t tell the story, it would die with me. That feels like a heavy responsibility, and it is. I’m sure the ancestors wanted the secrets to die with me as they did with them, but secrets are so harmful. Time to shine a light in the dark corners, watch the cockroaches scurry around until they’ve been banished.
I do, however, have a secret hope with this book. I hope that a young girl somewhere in the world finds it quite by accident, and it speaks to her in a way that only she will understand. A girl who perhaps is being abused told that she’d never amount to anything, or feels like she doesn’t belong, lives with a crazy family, and sees no way out. Perhaps this book will help her to know that she is not trapped. It just might give her hope enough to pursue her dreams no matter what.
And for my daughters and granddaughter to know they have strength and courage far beyond what they imagine is their birthright.
It's time to dispel the myths and lies I grew up with. To change poison into medicine.
Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay