TheBanyanTree: A Book Awaits!

[Monique Colver]

It’s been decided: the next nonfiction book-length project will be essays
with family as the theme. The governing board thought this would suit me and
let me stick with my strengths. The governing board, for those of you not in
the know, is me. I can comprise an entire governing board all by myself
because I’ve put on a few pounds in the last few years.

The governing board also laments the lack of my work ethic, but we’re
working on a compromise: I won’t tell the governing board where to put their
(mine) poorly thought out opinions and the governing board will stop
hassling me to do Something That Matters. It’s a good compromise, as long as
they stick with their end of the bargain.

Besides, as I like to tell the governing board from time to time, I am
engaged in running a business at the same time in order to, y’know, make a
living. The governing board scoffs at this, saying that if I were really
industrious I’d be working nonstop from 6 am to 1 am, with five hours for
sleep.

I counter with the idea that the governing board is not in touch with
reality, and that if they’d just get off their high horses (which remind me
of Trojan horses, for some reason), they’d understand that I’m also a person
and not just a working machine.

Said governing board scoffs back. Etc. We’ve reached an uneasy truce, but I
tell you, the board is in danger of getting fired if they veer off course
again.

I love my family. Even the ones who can’t stand me. I chalk it up to me not
being easily stood at times. Let’s face it, I am a bit of a prima donna. And
tactless. I possess no social skills. I don’t remember them on their
birthdays. I hardly ever invite them to my family reunions, mostly because I
don’t have family reunions. Every family needs someone to look down on, and
in my family I was it. I didn’t realize this at the time, I just thought no
one liked me.

TURNS OUT I’m not completely unlikeable at all! Sure, my stepmom didn’t like
me much, but that’s okay. I’m too much like my mother, and stepmom never
cared for mom. Reviewing some of their correspondence from when I was young
I can see why. I’m not sure I would have cared for either of them if I had
been an adult and not an emotional ping pong ball.

(Note: Said correspondence is only that received from stepmom, since mom
kept everything ever sent to her, and it all resides now at my house.)

I’m fairly certain that had any of my siblings had a choice, they would not
have selected me for a sibling. But guess what! They had no choice! Hah!  When
I first met one set of stepsiblings they openly made fun of me, while
accepting my brother into their clan. And my older sister, who was the
perfect older age to mentor the stepsister. My stepmother looked at me with
no small measure of disgust and said, “Art, you let her go outside like
that?”

Art is my dad, in case that wasn’t clear.

My stepmom’s disdain for my appearance/attitude/demeanor carried over into
my real life, by which I mean the life outside of my family, but I’m totally
grateful to have had a family who provides me so much material. Who needs
the whole happy childhood thing when you can instead have things to talk
about? Well, in my case, anyway. Hey, it works for me.

That whole hogwash about family being the one place that has to take you in?
Hogwash. Family is what you make of it, and some families will take you in,
even if you aren’t theirs, and some won’t, even if you are theirs. And some
families have to kick you out, lest you spend your life lounging on mom and
dad’s couch, which isn’t a good idea in most circumstances.

Ahh, family. I love them all. Doesn’t mean I won’t make fun of them now and
then, but as far as I know they don’t actually read the things I write, so I
think I’m good. Of course, since I’m compiling these into a book, you can’t
read them until then. So sorry. It’ll do you good to wait a bit anyway.

-- 
Monique Colver