Last week-end my nephew and his wife welcomed their second daughter into this world. Her last name is Bean. She is the great-granddaughter of Willie and Eloise Bean who purchased five acres of land and a home shortly after their marriage in 1937.
My parents raised three children in a home on the land – which fronts Highway 69. Dad planted and harvested a handsome garden year after year. Mama created many a tasty meal from the vegetables which the land produced. As the progeny grew up and left the nest- grandchildren filled the old home. Family celebrations continued. Mama made an Easter bunny cake, many a yummy meal for Christmas and Thanksgiving. Birthdays were celebrated as were anniversaries until age caught up with Mama and Daddy.
Mom passed in 2000 and Daddy in 2002. The halls became eerily quiet and the celebrations ceased. My brother and his progeny had moved next door in 1995 – and stayed. He build the spacious home and created a haven for his family. We shared boundaries and tended to look out for one in an abstract manner. My sister-in-law’s indifference to any family rituals in evidence for years. My sister and I tried to continue family celebrations but to no avail. She moved in 2004 to New Mexico and for all intents and purposes the long held celebrations of Christmas, Thanksgiving, etc. all but ignored. The family I knew ceased to exist.
My brother was diagnosed with cancer in 2007 and lived until 2012. I knew it was a very bad omen for me, for the Bean legacy on Highway 69 when he passed. The out of control progeny of my brother had taken hold of a world my parents’ believed was secure.
I have already blogged re: the acre of land and the home my brother built. He wanted me to own but never told me and I out of the goodness of my heart did not wish my sister-in-law to believe she was going to be chucked out. The facts are often too grim when one considers how quickly she would chuck me out if she could.
Her children certainly do not care – starting with the oldest who has stated he would like the one acre and the home to my niece who has attacked me with a lead pipe, filed no trespassing charges against me which involves land I foolishly signed back over to Mama Enabler Ellen. The aforementioned Christopher lives in Oklahoma and is a Chaplain. He is in charge of the finances and the abusive, manipulative niece appears to be running the sale of the acre of land and the home.
Sorry is not the word I would use. To say it is less than sorry is being charitable.
The land which my parents’ worked so hard to preserve, to purchase has been posted on some site looking like a white trash lived there. Mattresses in the back yard, a pile of junk in the family room my brother once sat in and watched hours of football. His legacy is mixed. His progeny do not care about him in the least and have no problem show casing him in a negative light.
Their disrespect for their dad, the Beans obvious for years. My brother had been gone for several years and still no tombstone. It was only when I contacted the funeral home who contacted the US Army my brother allocated a tombstone. It rests beside Mama and Daddy and Daddy’s parents at Hooks Cemetery. It is a way to honor a man who deserved honor.
I found bag after bag of discarded family photographs dumped into a trash bin. My Mama’s published diary which she began to write when she was 13 until she was 81 tossed into a trash, awaited pick up by city services. The Hardin County History Book which is out of print and valuable also thrown away. My dad’s birth certificate met the same fate. Thank God all were salvaged. I don’t know what was destroyed but I know I did save some items.
We seek to keep a connection with our blood kin. In some cases that is not possible and so I find this is the case with my brother’s progeny. I kept remembering the adorable children who fought to sit on my lap. I remember their excitement when I walked into a room. I cherish those memories. I might as well as I do not intend to have any connection with them. I have decided to shake the dust off my feet and go to the next village.
I pray for them but I can not be involved with them again. I have taken their abuse and indifference long enough. My nephew can smile as he holds a new baby named Bean. She represents the future. It is hoped photographs of her will not find their way into a garbage bin and her memory not soiled by indifferent, ingratitude and a shameful greed.
There is no law against hoping.