Everyone struggles in life. We struggle with finding work, love and peace within ourselves. These hardships usually ask us to face demons that we can never truly replace. As in any domino effect situation, the struggles we face have the potential to turn into secrets once we have surpassed them. These secrets we harbor in our souls have the potential to change the way the people around us feel about our characters. Think about all of your personal secrets. Now take a moment to think about your family members and about how many possible deep secrets you all accumulate together. What if at least one of these secrets silently floating around through generations of your family could change the purpose of your life up to this point, would you want to know about it?
A couples months ago I experienced an abrupt family revelation that has shaped me in all sorts of ways. The secret focuses on my father’s side of the family which features 11 siblings; all still living, and two deceased parents. My grandfather created a life for his gigantic family sometime during the 40s in Mapasinge, Ecuador; where he and his wife built a home from the ground up. My relatives and I originate from this home, even though at this point we are spread across the globe. I met my grandmother twice before she passed, and we spoke on the phone constantly. She was an amazing women in all aspects as far as I could tell. Her voice was soft and gentle, her hugs were just as beautiful and fragile. I never met my grandfather, nor do I have any recollection of speaking to him. All I knew about the man was that he was mean. He never laughed, he never smiled, but he took care of his children in a draining third world country. He also delivered all of his children in the sanctity of the home built.
Prior to a recent family visit by a couple of aunts, uncles and cousins; I had never asked many questions about my grandparents and who they were before they passed. Maybe that was due to the distance always between us or because of my self-centered lifestyle. One night while my family was in town, two other cousins and I stumbled across the teary eyed faces of our parents scavenging through childhood memories and recollections of what their lives used to be like. It is never an easy thing to see any parent cry, so naturally I just stared at them, hoping they’d stop.This is when one of my aunts let out a family secret. With a distant look in her eyes, as if she was reliving her childhood again, she blurted out that her father never let her mother leave the house as if she were some war criminal trespassing on foreign soil. She wasn’t allowed to go visit the neighborhood grocers, enroll her children in school or even travel to a hospital to give birth. She was only able to set foot out of the house once the man had passed, and I think those may have been the best couple of years of her life. I could feel her pain as I pictured myself in her position, although I am aware I could never really be in her shoes.
I cannot imagine anyone living this way, in fear of a man. It saddens me to think of all of her suffering, and of the suffering that my father and aunts must have dealt with besides the poverty they faced. That night, hand in hand, these siblings changed who I was and who I will be suddenly and unknowingly. They spoke about their pasts, ones that I probably would never have bothered to explore other wise. They let out memories and secrets I could never make up. They gave me their truths and because of this I am forever thankful for because now I am aware of how hard they have all prospered to give their children everything they never had. I would be no one without the suffering of the generations before me. Now because of this “secret” I feel like I know my grandmother a little bit more, and subsequently I can say the same for my grandfather. Secrets good or bad are worth releasing.
