#SongoftheDay What Becomes of the Brokenhearted (Jimmy Ruffin)
I'm not going to say "I don't know who needs to read this," because I know exactly who needs to read it. I'd love to tell her this story myself, but it wouldn't be appropriate at this time.
So I'm telling you.
Hopefully, in some way, the message will reach its intended target.
When I was a kid, I spent inordinate amounts of time with my maternal grandparents. Following my parents' divorce (which involved even more violence and threats than their marriage), my grandmother had us kids over every weekend. It was important to her to compensate for all the trauma we were going through.
I have wonderful memories of halcyon weekends spent with my grandparents. My grandfather watched British comedies on PBS with us. He gave us $4 to buy a dozen donuts at the Tim Hortons down the street. We were allowed to drink a can of pop to drink. We played poker together.
So may happy memories.
When my grandmother was in her eighties, long after my grandfather had died, she told us the whole story about those days. She told us that my grandfather lived with severe untreated mental illness, which the family expertly hid from us grandkids, and which resulted in a great deal of violence and cruelty.
Every weekend, after we kids had left, my grandmother would pay the price for having us over. She suffered many punishments at my grandfather's hand, from violent acts to the truly bizarre.
One of my sisters in particular was very upset to find out this information. She wished my grandmother hadn't told her the truth. She felt the truth tore down all her happy childhood memories.
Of course it was jarring to discover what my grandmother had endured for the pleasure of visiting with her grandkids. It was shocking to find out what my grandfather, who'd always seemed like such a kind and gentle elder, had done behind closed doors.
Strangely, perhaps, this knowledge hasn't ruined my childhood. I acknowledge that my grandfather committed atrocious acts when we were not around. I also remember the individualized care he showed us.
By no means do I excuse his behaviour. By no means to I dismiss the harm he caused.
But it is possible, in time, to move past the cognitive dissonance caused by holding these two thoughts in one's mind: the crime and the care.
It is possible to know two things to be true and not feel torn apart.
I know someone out there needs to hear this story today.
Maybe you do, too.
If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and visits every day, the easiest thing you can do is tell your friends about the site. Tell anyone you know--particularly people who are isolated and enjoy music.
Readers of adult fiction can also buy my books or check them out from your local library. Supporting my AudioErotica endeavour on Patreon would also help me hugely!
I'm also an Amazon Influencer, so hopefully I can make a little pocket change when you buy stuff by clicking through my affiliate links.
But you don't HAVE to do any of that. I'm very happy to get a daily visit from you, so just keep coming back.
Oh, and I also recommend hitting the "Subscribe" button at the top of the page so you won't miss a song!
See you tomorrow!
Giselle
So I'm telling you.
Hopefully, in some way, the message will reach its intended target.
When I was a kid, I spent inordinate amounts of time with my maternal grandparents. Following my parents' divorce (which involved even more violence and threats than their marriage), my grandmother had us kids over every weekend. It was important to her to compensate for all the trauma we were going through.
I have wonderful memories of halcyon weekends spent with my grandparents. My grandfather watched British comedies on PBS with us. He gave us $4 to buy a dozen donuts at the Tim Hortons down the street. We were allowed to drink a can of pop to drink. We played poker together.
So may happy memories.
When my grandmother was in her eighties, long after my grandfather had died, she told us the whole story about those days. She told us that my grandfather lived with severe untreated mental illness, which the family expertly hid from us grandkids, and which resulted in a great deal of violence and cruelty.
Every weekend, after we kids had left, my grandmother would pay the price for having us over. She suffered many punishments at my grandfather's hand, from violent acts to the truly bizarre.
One of my sisters in particular was very upset to find out this information. She wished my grandmother hadn't told her the truth. She felt the truth tore down all her happy childhood memories.
Of course it was jarring to discover what my grandmother had endured for the pleasure of visiting with her grandkids. It was shocking to find out what my grandfather, who'd always seemed like such a kind and gentle elder, had done behind closed doors.
Strangely, perhaps, this knowledge hasn't ruined my childhood. I acknowledge that my grandfather committed atrocious acts when we were not around. I also remember the individualized care he showed us.
By no means do I excuse his behaviour. By no means to I dismiss the harm he caused.
But it is possible, in time, to move past the cognitive dissonance caused by holding these two thoughts in one's mind: the crime and the care.
It is possible to know two things to be true and not feel torn apart.
I know someone out there needs to hear this story today.
Maybe you do, too.
If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and visits every day, the easiest thing you can do is tell your friends about the site. Tell anyone you know--particularly people who are isolated and enjoy music.
Readers of adult fiction can also buy my books or check them out from your local library. Supporting my AudioErotica endeavour on Patreon would also help me hugely!
I'm also an Amazon Influencer, so hopefully I can make a little pocket change when you buy stuff by clicking through my affiliate links.
But you don't HAVE to do any of that. I'm very happy to get a daily visit from you, so just keep coming back.
Oh, and I also recommend hitting the "Subscribe" button at the top of the page so you won't miss a song!
See you tomorrow!
Giselle
