History of Erin Boat

History of Erin Boat
The Unnecessary Backstory (the beginning)

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End of an Era

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Quote of the Moment
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Current Favorite Song

Current Favorite Song
But Anyway by Blues Traveler

Letter Writing

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

I wrote a letter to my grandmother today. It’s taken me somewhere between 5 months and two weeks to write. It was partly a response to a letter she sent me at the beginning of October (thus its been 5 months in the making) but I didn’t actually bother to try and think about what to say until two weeks ago. And it’s been hard. I hardly know her. I’ve heard so many mixed things about her, and have had so many highly varying experiences with her that I really didn’t know what to write. My mother has both said that she was a bitch, and that she was a good mom. I’ve heard that she kicked my mother out at 16 for going on the pill..... but then someone else told me that she DIDN’T kick my mom out for some other pretty hard drugs. That the only reason she kicked my mom out for the pill was because she thought my mom was now whoring herself out for drug money. If that’s what really happened, then I don’t really blame my grandmother. She was pretty tolerant of my mom, if that was the case.

On the other hand, I remember her screaming at my sister, when she was 3, because she (my grandmother) asked my sister to put some fine china in the sink, and my sister dropped it. Kid’s drop things. If you don’t want something broken, don’t hand it to a little kid. That was a bit of an extreme and mean reaction for a little kids clumsiness.....

But she’s been paying for one of her nephews to be in college through multiple degrees. That’s pretty nice if you ask me.

I finally got it written and I feel both proud of myself, for writing something difficult, and glad, because now I can be in touch with my family. Maybe it won’t work out but maybe it will. My mom was almost never in touch with my grandmother, but now I’m independent. I get to see whoever I want, whenever I want (within reason) and I don’t have to worry that she’ll be offended, or that I’ll mess up her plans. It’s nice. It’s made me realize again that I’m not a little kid anymore. Sometimes, that’s a wonderful feeling to have. I’m happy.

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