From the outside my grandmother appeared to be a sweet innocent old lady. Everyone liked her. Despite the fact that she was a argumentative menace to everyone in my family they loved her very much. No one else feels this way towards her except for me. I can tell you if anyone in my family had to read what I am writing they would be shocked, angry and disgusted. I guess they should be. It feels like a law against nature to hate your own grandmother.
I have only presented the bad side of my grandmother....the truth is she actually had many wonderful qualities, most of which I have only realised recently. Unfortunately it would be that one of her good qualities that would sting me the most:
My grandmother made sure she always knew what was going on with everyone in the family. She would watch, listen...eavesdrop outside closed doors. Because she made sure that she knew about everything that went on she knew more about my abuse than anyone else. I still feel like it's a crime to say that I was emotionally and physically abused. She knew what my Dad did to me, she watched and listened. She would always be there in the background or around the corner. The worst is I knew she knew what was going on was terribly wrong. I could see it in her face.
Whether it was because she was once an abused woman herself, or because she believed that my Dad, was the head of the house and my father, she should not interfere or she was just in denial I don't know. But she was the one person who knew that I desperately needed help and she choose not to do anything. And here is where her "good quality" comes in. After being beaten she was always there holding me, washing the tears and sweat away from my face, tying up my hair and putting me to bed, all the while cursing my father. It was like being given time in a boxing ring and going into the corner for water and a pep talk before being sent back.
It was a blessing to have that comfort after all those horrific episodes. I really should be grateful because the majority of kids that are abused have no one. But it just made me hate her even more. She was just there to listen and see and then comfort. Never to help. And so for years it continued, each time it occurred it sliced away at my soul and took away more of the person I was meant to be.