One Generation Too Far

My name sat in the same address book as all of the other names.  In the most careful of handwriting, my address and phone number followed along with a description of who I was.  "Teresa's daughter, Granyma's granddaughter."

I was seated directly next to my youngest aunts, who are only a few yearss older than I am.  Next to my maternal grandmother, they always seemed to have the most appeal.  "How do you like your job?" "Are you seeing anyone?" "Look how pretty you've gotten."  They took the tiny address book and filled in their joint information before passing it on to me with a sweet smile.  I returned the smile and followed their example with slightly less alluring handwriting.

My youngest brother sat next to me at the table.  He wrinkled his nose as the sight of the book and passed it down without touching the pen.  He had no interest in this extended family who asked our name and association to our grandmother each event.  We hardly missed one and sat next to our mother who we looked just like.  It was frustrating to watch everyone around us receive perhaps not a warm welcome, but at least a familiar one, while they would give us a look of confusion or no eye contact at all.  At weddings, funerals, dinners, and reunions alike, my brothers and I were non-entities.  We were a generation too far from Granyma for anyone to care if we came, or usually even who we were.

As I watched my brother pass down the book dismissive, I wished that I could be like him.  I wished that I didn't care that these people who were barely even related to me couldn't or wouldn't remember who I was.

With my information separated by only a thin blue line from my aunts' information, they still managed to skip me.  Boldly, one of my aunts announced today that she was headed to our family reunion.  A reunion I had received no information regarding.  I cannot blame my aunts, and I do not blame them.  Having had this happen since I was young I couldn't help but always look and wonder what it was that made me so unappealing to all of those people.

Such snubbing normally would warrant a scoff and some shit-talk, but it is strange to think that these people will never know nor care that I leave the country in ten days.  It is enough to make one feel very small indeed.