(Once Upon A Family... Part 1)
My dad met and fell in love with my mom, a sweet and rebellious catholic school girl. Together they found an escape from their childhoods in the hippy movement of the 60's. My mom was an all-american girl living the American dream. She was slender, blond, and beautiful. The oldest daughter of 5 kids, with one of them her older brother. They were upper class and had summer homes. She grew up playing on lakes in the summer time, sledding in the winter time, and a victim to catholic guilt and borderline alcoholic parents all year round. Her father, the sweet, gentle, blind-eyed optimist, and her mother the exhausted hostess, and socialite. Like most wealthy families they had secrets I still don't know. But my mom left all that to be free and poor with my dad when she was about 19.
My mom stayed home and raised me, Kit, and Mei... in that order. As I said, my dad never physically harmed us, but he was verbally and emotionally brutal, especially to me. I was often his favorite. He loved that I had a quick mind and sharp wit just like him. He often relived his relationship with his father through me and accused me of trying to overthrow him in the family. There was nothing we didn't fight about. He was abusive. He would say he was tough on me to make me stronger. I would say he was in deep need of a therapist and years of couch time. My sisters often watched... each with their own opinions but both glad it wasn't them he was after. The only one he'd pursue with such a fury was my mom. But my mom was a fragile person and I would get in the middle of their fights so he'd pick on me instead. She just couldn't take it and was happy to run away while I weathered the storm for her.
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