When You Are Disappointed

I've already blogged a bit about the family drama - Grandma and Grandpa die, and suddenly their kids are fighting over the leftover crumbs (super simplification, but you get the idea).  But I had a little sliver of hope that the family would still pull together after the inital grief had passed.

I was wrong to hope.  I know that now.

My aunt and uncle have chosen money over family.  Simple as that.  They are the have-nots, the ones who do not own their own home, who do not have a current spouse, who relied on mommy and daddy to constantly prop them up.  And they are resentful because of it.

I've long known this about my uncle, but I am disappointed to concede this about my aunt.  She has been golden to us - close to my children, helpful, sweet, kind, caring in the best sort of way.  I love her very much.  There is nothing Mike and I would not have done for her, and I thought she felt the same way about us.

But the facts have outed her.  She's been caught in numerous lies.  She has betrayed her siblings, and she has put her own three wonderful children in the horrible "in-the-middle" position -  defending their mother (who is clearly wrong), or giving up a loving and honest extended family.  Actually, the extended family will not turn on her children, but it puts them in a tough position nonetheless.

I wanted to believe my aunt's lies.  I wanted to believe that fear of being on her own, grief over losing her mother, fear of facing a move out of a home she's lived in for almost 40 years straight drove her to do some stupid things.  I wanted to believe that she hadn't thought through the consequences of her actions, and once she had, she would come to her senses and right the wrongs.

I was mistaken.

My aunt acted out of resentment.  The fact is, she feels that she is owed more than her fair share.  Even if we accept that this is true (which we don't, but I'll play along), she still acted deceitfully.  If she was in the right, why the deceit?  Why the lies?  None of her excuses hold water, and I am forced to accept that she will no longer be welcome in my life or in the lives of my children.

Dear aunt, I will miss you very much.  My childen will miss you very much.  Best of luck on your lonely road.

What Love Looks Like by Kurt Bensworth

Thursday night, in less than three hours, I finished a charming book by Kurt Bensworth titled "What Love Looks Like."

This book describes the 16-year-old protag's first love.  There are many things I loved about the story.

First, Bensworth's characterization draws you in and makes you root for the characters.  I wanted the protag to get the girl.  I felt his desire, his excitement, his passion, his frustrations.  I sympathized with him.  This is so important for me, as a reader.  If I don't care about or like the characters, I have a hard time liking a book.

Second, Bensworth nailed the protag's voice and inner turmoil.  Action and dialogue were believable and true-to-life.  After reading some of the protag's dialogue, I would often find myself going, "Yep.  That's exactly what a 16-year-old guy would say (or think)."  And this kept me in the story, kept the story flowing smoothly.  I hate reading dialogue that leaves me going, "Huh?  That character would never say that.  He'd never use that word."  Bensworth never got it wrong.

Third, this book is primarily set in my hometown of Tustin, California.  The setting was richly and accurately described, and I loved being able to recognize landmarks and streets in the story.  I've never read another book set in Tustin before.

Fourth, this story had a message (or two), conveyed in a way that didn't beat me over the head.  There's nothing like the experience of our first love - nothing can compare, and nothing else in our life will ever come close.  And that first love changes us, lets us see the possibilities and opens us up to those that come our way in the future.

Life is also short.  If someone made a great impact on us in the past, it's important to let them know.  Get in touch.  Reach out.  Our lives can only be richer for the experience, and you never know when it may be too late.

Thanks, Mr. Bensworth, for an honest, touching read.  And for helping me remember my own first love (Scotty Medford, are you out there somewhere?).

Buy the book and read more about Kurt Bensworth at www.kurtbensworth.com.