There’s nothing quite like it is there?
You get your good, your bad, your ugly.
And your embarrassing.
Oh boy is there some embarrassment…
There’s more than one kind really:
You’ve got your silly embarrassing… like that one girl who dyes her hair all black and covers herself in tattoos then walks down the street in big huge boots with little black dresses while singing made up songs to her child…
I mean really, I wouldn’t find that embarrassing… I might find it creepy that someone acted so much like me… but embarrassed? no. I’m pretty sure someone in my family might find that a little embarrassing though… humiliating even.
But like I said not to me.
There are some things I find embarrassing though… Some qualities I find unacceptable.
Maybe embarrassing isn’t a strong enough word…
Humiliating. Demobilizing. Disturbing.
and yes. Embarrassing.
I have this grandparent you see…
you know… the parent of your parent… one of those.
Well this particular grand parent… she is…
Not in that fun way I mentioned earlier. And not in the can’t match your socks way either.
In the racist sexist homophobic hateful way.
As children I… and her other grandchildren… were bothered by her stories. bothered by her rants. bothered by the fact that we got our mouths washed out with soap for saying “damn” while she uttered every racial homophobic slur in the book and some she made up on her own and all in “polite” conversation.
It wasn’t just soapy resentment though. We were offended by what she said in private and embarrassed and appalled by what she said in public.
I was angry that someone who brought my wonderful parent into this world could be so hateful while thinking that she was the embodiment of love and acceptance.
Telling her she was racist sexist homophobic hateful… nope… not a dent… not a ping… not a crack in her ideas… She’s a “good Christian” and that… is that.
I haven’t seen her in 16 years.
I realized that my genetics didn’t have to influence who I spent my time with and while I couldn’t stop her spewing filth from her mouth… I could choose not to hear it.
Do I have an embarrassing relative? Yes… but it wasn’t really my decision.
If you’d like to answer this in a post on your own blog just pop on by his place and let him know…