A thing I haven’t written about yet is what’s been happening with family over the past couple of years whilst I’ve not been blogging. People say you can’t choose your family. I don’t think that’s true. You can’t choose who you share your genes with, but you can choose who you love and who around you is important to you. So when I think of family it often includes some close and special friends. I’m quite blessed as far as that goes, having both blood relatives and friends I think of in those terms. Not everyone does, not everyone has good friends, not everyone gets along with their genetic family. I have both, but this post is specifically going to be about those with whom I share genes – their spouses may also get a mention, you get the idea.

I’ve drifted apart somewhat from Karen and it’s really a shame. Before I got really sick, I would keep in touch calling her on the way home from work every couple of weeks, but she never called me and still never does. The only time we speak is when I call her. I get cards on my birthday and so on, but it would be nice if she initiated contact once in a while. I realise she has her own family and what have you, but I’m still here, I’m terribly sick and a phone call once in a while isn’t much to ask. The opposite is true, of course, I could call her, but you know – I did, I called and I called and it was always me. I used to visit, then she went to Dubai, she did invite me there once, at short notice and I couldn’t do it, then never asked me again. I did visit again after she got back, but now I’m too sick to travel. To be fair, she did visit me a couple of times last year, but it’s ironic to note that I’ve seen Richard more recently. Sadly a time when I really needed her, she couldn’t be there for me. I’m over it, but it’s hard to forget that her recommendation for what I should do if there’s a next time is call Samaritans. I don’t know how to repair this yet, but I do want to, not that I would call on her if I was having a mental breakdown, but I do love her and miss her and I know that is reciprocated. I think I am just a bit too far down her list of priorities to get a look in.

Contrariwise, I’m in better touch with Dad than I have been for a long time since Mum passed away. I put this down to Maureen’s influence as much as anything. She is, I think, the correct person to fill the gap in Dad’s life – previous incumbents having failed in various ways to make the grade. It’s nice to be closer to the old man, we speak more often on the phone and I exchange email with Maureen from time to time. She has her own mental problems and it’s nice to share with someone who has a better understanding than those who have never experience the darker things the mind can throw at you. I hope I help too in a small way from time to time.

Uncle Robert. Bob. Well, here I am the one who should do better at keeping in touch. Especially now with Grandma gone, he’s living alone and not used to it. I’ve lived alone for a long time and struggle to share even when someone comes to visit for a week or two, but imagine that suddenly being alone is hard. I’m pleased that he is doing charity work and has mates in the RAF club and so on, but yes – I should do better and call him more.

Which then leads up to the newest additions to my little clan. Carly Jade, or CJ, as she is better known. This would be my half first cousin once removed, if you can get your head around that, being the grand-daughter of my uncle Tony, my Dad’s half brother.
CJ introduced herself to me, a couple of years ago[1] with a message on facebook where she said she thought she was my cousin and saying hello. Now normally I can’t be doing with random messages from folk on facebook, but I decided to verify the claim and we did indeed turn out to be related, so I didn’t blow her off like I might have otherwise done. We got to chatting and I discovered a troubled young lady with a lot of problems. She had personality issues and social problems. A semi homeless girl with an attitude to rules somewhere between ignorant and defiant. Though a lot of her problems were caused by factors beyond her control, certainly she wasn’t doing herself any favours and was in real danger of ending up back on the streets, hanging on by a thread to a hostel place. That’s the negative. The positive was beneath the surface, she genuinely had both a need to give, and to receive some love and this is where our relationship began. I don’t want to detail the sometimes rocky road that CJ has travelled since then. It’s not always been pretty and on occasion I’ve been really pissed off, her choices not always the most sensible. Still, I tried to give her some love and to be family for her, a thing that (and this makes me mad) her side of the family couldn’t or wouldn’t do. It’s amazing that she now identifies more with my immediate relatives than hers. Really, all she needed was a helping hand and some unconditional love. I’m proud of myself to have been the one who gave it to her. I’m proud of her for how far she has come with that help. She’s now living with her son Kairo [2] in a house of her own (well rented, but anyway) and as many single mums do (not getting into the Dad situation) fighting with the social to get the right benefits and such. I hope I am a decent coach for getting through the DWP bureaucracy, because it’s a complete bloody minefield. CJ has a ways to go in order to really get her life on track, but at least she’s got a family now who give a shit and to be quite honest, in many ways, that’s all she ever needed.

[1] I can’t really remember how long, I’d say somewhere between 4-6 years, I could look it up if I could be arsed.
[2] Kairo Cepheus Stefan Augustus Burke – Why yes, he is named after me.  Yes, I am happy.