I was the middle child out of five kids.  There were actually six babies my mother had but our youngest baby brother died of SIDS in 1969 at the age of three-months-old.  Which left five kids, me smack dab in the center.

My next younger brother and I were the unloved in our family.  Some may argue the point, but we both know how we felt.  Our parents talked about divorce one time and Tom and I discussed who would take us in as we knew our parents didn’t want us.  Is sad to say and even sadder to remember…but, we knew it when we were about nine- and ten-years-old.

And then Dad died and Mom abandoned us and left us to the wolves.  All three of my brothers went to a paternal uncle and the sister went to a paternal cousin’s family.  Neither of the two relatives’ and their families wanted me so I was sent from one (sometimes bad) foster home to another.

My point of this post is that none of my siblings and I had a chance to bond as siblings.  The sister stole our inheritance so I haven’t had anything to do with her in about 30+ years.  My older brother and best friend died at the age of 34.  Which leaves my two younger brothers.  One brother, unfortunately, inherited our mom’s mental illness and has probably spent more time in prison (for mostly non-violent crimes such as drinking and driving) than out of prison since he became an adult.  I did everything in my power to get him into treatment centers for his addictions but once I married and we moved to Texas, I was unable to help him much thereafter.  Then there’s the baby of the family.  And let me tell you – the experts are spot-on when it comes to their birth order expertise.  Jeff was and is the epitome of the baby of the family.

Because of our fractured lives growing up, adulthood has been a challenge of ups and downs and fractured families.  There’s no other way to put it – I am a final product of a maternal uncle and aunt who finished raising me and they’re definition of family is different than the paternal side of my family.  Not that one “was” better than the other but as my life has progressed, my maternal family is definitely who I relate to more than my paternal family.

This past week, my younger brother decided he no longer wanted me in his life.  Is perfectly fine with me, since he chose to respond to something I emailed him and he was (and still is) unable to act like an ADULT to iron out our differences.  So be it.  I am now down to one brother – whom I have loved through thick and thin, since we were the unloved children of our parents.

If you could see the dynamics of my paternal family, you’d completely understand why we were fractured to begin with and why we are fractured now.  Life goes on and as long as I am able to recall those who have loved me through thick and thin, I am doing just fine.  I am first and foremost a child of God.  I have a husband who is my partner for life, loving to the end and has taken our vows to heart as a covenant from God.  I have four beautiful, smart and fun kids.  And I actually have been shown more love and kindness from my in-laws than I have most of my very large extended family.

Not to mention the love and support I’ve received from virtual quilters – always trying to lift me up, both through prayer and through kind words.  I grew up in a fractured family and now have a fractured life.  But, that doesn’t mean there isn’t love and support.