Don't ask. I normally don't post unless something happy, exciting, or even important is going on. Just in a mood to type I guess, and nobody in particular to email and tell anything about.
I've been on Facebook for, umm..., I dunno, a couple of months maybe? It's been great. Made connections with quite a few people I work with. Yeah, I could do that AT work, but don't always get a chance to see them and "shoot the bull----" know what I mean? Made connections with people I went to high school with (in some cases, I've known them since elementary school). I don't get to see them, as many are in NY and I am in Arkansas, but it's nice to be able to "see" what they are doing by their posts and comments and such. I've also made connections with family that I haven't spoken to since 1988 when my father died.
There's a story behind this. I guess it's why I'm blogging...
My parents split in 1980. With that, family split. Basically, there were some members of my father's family that didn't want anything to do with my mom. I mean, how could she divorce their brother? And there were members on my mother's side who knew why the divorce happened, but didn't want anything to do with my father. I was 10 or 11 at the time, but I knew what was going on.
Anyway, I saw my dad on weekends when he wasn't working. He would take me everywhere, and I mean everywhere. He would try to fit in a month's worth of stuff into one day. I understood it, and sometimes I said no to it. But I always enjoyed my time with my dad. There were nights we would go see aunts and uncles in Brooklyn or Staten Island. I always loved visiting there. But there were times it felt like they were being nice to me because I was with my dad. When my dad passed away in June 1988, there were members of the family that basically went through my dad's apartment, while I was asleep elsewhere, and took stuff. You would think that they wanted a "keepsake" but nope, they were scavenging for whatever they could get that was worth money. And sure enough, after we buried my dad, my life as a Scarpati was buried with it. I didn't hear from anyone. Nobody bothered to call or write to see how I was holding up, if I needed anything, to tell me to drop dead. What did I get instead? Rumors that I was a bastard who was using my father to get whatever I wanted, get what I can, and now that he's dead, I didn't want anything to do with the rest. Have you ever heard any bigger bullshit in your life?
Oh don't worry. It didn't stop there. My mom died in 2000, and her family pulled the same shit. They didn't want anything to do with me, apparently I was the black sheep bastard child that they would only welcome into their lives because I was my mother's son. When she was gone, I was put out to pasture.
Through Facebook, I've reconnected with a couple of cousins. I've chatted with 2 of them, and I will tell you it's awkward to say the least. I have been holding in anger for the past 20 years, not caring that I felt deserted. I have a family of my own now...my wife and son. I speak with my wife's family, but I don't allow myself to get that close to them, because I believe if her and I are ever no longer together, whether it's divorce or death, they will do the same. I don't want that for my son, but I believe it's inevitable.
OK, I'm done now. Thank you for reading, if you made it this far.
TTFN
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Welcome to the (at times not so much) wonderful world of ME, a big steaming pile of (take your pick of words, insert here). There are times I may (try to be) funny, there are times I'm sincere. Sometimes I end up being both without even trying. But you're here, so I hope I can keep you entertained enough to come back for more.
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