I learned a family secret at the family gathering last weekend and it seems I am to report it along with my personal reaction; so here goes. The names are mostly fictitious but the relationships remain intact in order to provide context.
Nat, my younger brother by three years, hosted Mum’s oldest brother, now 94 for a week and heard all his stories. One had a lasting impact on me. My maternal grandmother had five children, Basil, Mum and June in quick succession, then a lengthy pause and two more, Ellie and Ben. Ben was only about six years older than me and twenty years younger than my Mum. Basil’s story was of a man called Ted, a neighbour, who spent a lot of time around the family and was friendly with my grandmother. He later married and had two kids of his own, one my age. Basil is convinced Ted is the father of both younger siblings. Mum was involved in the discussion and she speaks ill of no one, but tellingly, there were no denials on her part…she even helped me place Ted. My grandfather was much older than my grandmother, eighteen years, and seems Grandma carried on a lengthy affair in her midlife.
I have no judgements about such things and I asked spirit to show me truth. Ted was indeed the father of my my Mum’s two youngest siblings.
This story had huge impact on me as I sorted through the various issues and emotions it raised. For a day or two I let it rest in limbo, as perhaps a story and perhaps truth. I grew up on my grandparent’s farm, living in a small house built on their property, leaving on my twelfth birthday to a home my dad built a couple of miles away; and had relationships with everyone involved.
The aunt, about eight years my senior, was a wonderful person and we have maintained a good relationship to this day. The uncle and I never really got along but I worked with him as a farm hand of sorts and we were never enemies, just little in common and no soul connection. The grandfather was an old man in my memory, with a quiet persona and a sadness about him, and kindness emanated from him. The grandmother and I never got along. She was a strong personality and did not like me for some reason. I steered clear of her whenever possible. She liked my younger brother and always sided with him in matters of dispute. There was frequently friction between my Mum and her mother and I learned years later that in her youth Mum frequently travelled with her father as he performed marriages and funerals as an ordained Anglican Minister. When the family moved to Canada when Mum was three, Grandpa became a farmer by profession and a minister as a service to the community. Ted lived next to the small church that was built, three miles from my grandparent’s homestead; thus perhaps the initial meeting.
I have no recollection of Ted visiting while I was there and we had no particular relationship except Ted was the father of one of my school mates, Robert. Robert and I also had little in common and were never close friends.
I did not pick up on any of this growing up and it all came as a complete surprise. Yes, there was a lengthy gap between the two aunties but these things happen and am not suspicious by nature.
In my view, marriage is an institution of humanity’s creation and all the stuff related to the sanctity of a marriage is just part of the dogma to which humanity is subjected. At the level of Source and at the level of sovereignty, marriage is appropriate as the foundation of a stable relationship for raising children but once the soul-level contract expires between the two people, it makes no sense to continue in a bad marriage. It serves no one, especially the children. My second wife was a married woman when we met and I have experienced attractions to other married women so I do not sit in judgement of affairs. I understand the very human things that occur in unhappy marriages and there were lots of unhappy marriages back in the day when divorces were essentially unthinkable. Even a half century later when I divorced, I was among the first of my generation to take such action.
Putting myself in my grandfather’s shoes was most difficult. Here was his wife, whom he loved, and the mother of his three children carrying on an affair and her lover was by all accounts a frequent visitor to the farm. My grandfather treated the resulting offspring as his own so at the public level he was accepting. At the private level he was torn. He loved his wife and accepted her free will choices but it was hard for him. He was far more evolved than she was and looked the other way as all of this took place. Her strong and dominant personality no doubt played a role.
The truth does set you free. This writing has been very therapeutic.
Truth is about to come on some many issues and at so many levels. Not sure of all the reasons for including this information in my blog but it feels appropriate.
Freedom for humanity…