On the whole, life is going pretty well. I only post when I'm struggling. On the 13th of this month my husband celebrated two years of sobriety! As for me, myself and another woman began an S-Anon meeting in our area. All good stuff.
Tuesday and Wednesday were not so good, though.
My uncle died on Friday, he's actually my father's uncle so I guess he would be my great-uncle. Always a nice man, very good to me, a bit of a drinker, like many of my relatives. At the wake on Tuesday night, I saw all three of his children, my cousins, or second cousins. I offered condolences to my female cousin, R. We spoke of our memories of sleepovers, and going to the fair and to the pool. A while later her brother, J., came over to speak with us. I went to hug him and his hand went directly onto my butt!
Over the course of the night I rationalized the whole incident, saying, "It may have been an accident," "He just lost his dad, and he's probably stressed out and not thinking clearly," "I'm making too much of this." But it really bothered me. The same thing happened with an uncle of mine a couple of years ago. My father's brother. Grabbed my backside at the Christmas party.
After the funeral on Wednesday, there was a gathering at the Elks Club where he was a member. During the meal, my husband took the last lonely roll that was sitting in the basket on the table. My father said, "I'm glad someone took that roll. It looked sad sitting there all alone. I was going to take it if you didn't." So P. offered my father half. Before my father could refuse, my mother jumped in and said, "Are you kidding? It will look better on you than it will on him!" From that point on, I checked out mentally. My husband said he knew I was checking out, and he watched my go. He said he could see it on my face.
Yesterday, I was in my parent's area, dropping off a letter to the SA fellowship announcing our meeting, so I dropped by. I told my parents what had happened with J. at the wake. My mother's reaction was disgust. My father's reaction surprised me. He said, "Maybe you just have a cute butt?!" DAD!!! I remain grossed out today.
I brought it up in group yesterday. The counselor, K., asked why I didn't feel like I could confront him with his inappropriate behavior. Good question! I told her that I thought it was because I am afraid. I'm afraid first of all of being wrong, and wrongly accusing someone of something really bad. I'm also afraid of being wrong, and then the embarrassment that follows for *me*, like, "Are you joking? Why would anyone want to grab *your* butt?" And lastly, I think I'm afraid of being wrong, and causing a major rift in the family, and being *the* reason why our family doesn't see each other anymore.
So although I am growing in some ways, in other ways I'm still a major pansy.
