My father was in the military so we never lived near grandparents. The only family I have ever had has been my father, mother, and two brothers. Around the time I was born, my mother and father's family began to have "issues." My mother physically abused my oldest brother when he was very young adn there has been rumors my entire life of my mother's infidelity (my father told me they were all true when I was 18). Because of this, my mother refused to let me see my father's family after my grandmother's last visit at age 5.

My mother has always had mental issues so that has only fueled her hatred for my father's family. She viewed these things as personal attacks and could not understand why my father even talked to his family, though the last time he had seen them was when my grandmother came to visit when I was 5.

I have to be honest that it never really bothered me growing up. I, of course, knew I had grandparents and KNEW it was because of my mother that we were not allowed to see them. She used my second oldest brother and I as a way to get back at my father's family "You can't see your grandchildren..how do you like that?"

My father died when I was 20 and shortly thereafter, my oldest brother moved to Georgia. I finally got to meet my grandmother and the rest of my father's family the first Christmas I flew out to visit my brother (my grandmother lives in FL). It was devastating; here are these wonderful people I never knew. This was the woman who raised my father to be the wonderful man that he was and I have younger cousins who lived next door and I got to see the relationship she has with them. The relationship I WOULD HAVE HAD if it had not been for my mother.

My husband and I have visited several times since then; of course, without my mother knowing. It still saddens me, though, because I know these people are my family but the bond is just not there. I see my cousins once a year and never talk to them on the phone; I feel like an outsider because they all grew up knowing each other and here I am "the one with the crazy mom and the uncle they never knew."

I've been able to let go of much of the pain since my father's death. There was a time that I HATED my mother for all her ugly and selfish ways..my grandmother didn't even recognize the picture of my father at his memorial. He had a beard and was obviously older than the last time she had seen him fifteen years ago. BUT at the same time, my father easily could have left my mother so in the end, whose fault is it really?

Despite all this, I did have a fairly good childhood. My mother is a whack job but she was always involved in our field trips, birthday parties, whatever and my father was more of a mother to us than anything. I guess what I'm saying is that grandparents are important but as long as you give your children love that is all that is important. It's not the number of people who love you but the quality of the love you receive.