Positivity--Ryan

 This might seem weird to say, but people sometimes say to me “how do you keep such a positive demeanor? Even if something bad happens, you’re always so positive about it!” The first thing that always comes to my mind is “huh, I’m really not sure,” but I believe it’s about time I give a serious answer.

It all began with my elementary school days. I was staying with my father and his side of the family primarily. My father was a financial dad, nothing more, nothing less; that’s why I call him a “father,” he really was not a “dad.” To be frank, the only thing he provided me and my other 5 siblings this false reality that he had a strong sense of family; that it was our mothers holding us back from our true potential. My brother Nickolas being the eldest of the group, he was the first to tell us that our interpretations of father were wrong. I obviously denied this, I felt as though father was the rock, the backbone of our family. Nick told us “don’t worry, you all will come to realize what type of man your father is in due time.” As much as I want to believe he was wrong, he was absolutely correct; solidifying my interpretation of my father as fiscal and a divider. With this shocking revelation, I rarely felt a sort of connection with my family. This constant division between families would shroud me in a dark state of mind, bringing about distrust and lost dependence on anyone.

Yeah, this was my young life. I really tried to commit to a reconnection and relationship with my father’s side of the family, but my efforts would yield the same result every time. I was shut out of everything I wished to be included in. If the family was congregating and laughing, I was told to go somewhere else. If my dad was to watch me, I’d just be locked in the house. My only safe haven in which I felt someone would talk and connect with me was at my grandmother’s house. Grandma and Auntie would always be present and they truly provided me an outlet where I could finally express my thoughts and feelings. They never once told me “you talk too much” or “shut up” or “play outside or something,” like my father and the rest of the family had. Instead, they greeted me with open arms and actually looked pleased to see me! For once, I actually felt like my presence was not a burden, not a hindrance to someone else. I felt like I belonged. Knowing I talk a lot, they would always tell me that it was a sign of intelligence, always listening to what I had to say. In response, they would tell me seemingly infinite stories from when they grew up, how times have changed, what life lessons they learned. I had finally, finally accepted at least somewhere in the family.

Fast forward to 2017, fifteen and full of acquired knowledge from these two mother-like figures. Though mainly focused on high school and grades, I received a rare phone call from my father (how exciting). My brother and I were to be taken to my Aunt’s house for a short visit, seemingly out of the blue. This would mark the first time I saw her old, tan house in my life. My aunt looked different from the years past, she was skinny and her hair was really short. I remember telling her that I liked the style change! We spent time talking about my future and If I would uphold my promise to her that I would give her 25% of my paycheck when I reach my career goal (this was a promise I made back in elementary school, so of course I told her “yes!”). It really was a short visit though, as we ate and chatted for only about two hours or so; My father had some work he had to do and it was a school night to boot. Thus, we said our goodbyes; the last thing I said to her was “I promise I won’t be a stranger.”

Two weeks later, I received another phone call from my father. This was certainly strange behaviour, but I did not think too much of it. What I heard next was unbelievable; my Aunt had passed away from stage four pancreatic cancer. I immediately retaliated with “you can’t be serious, father! We just saw her, she looked fine to me!” But despite my ignorance, the pieces of the puzzle connected. The shaved hair, the frail body, the sudden visitation; she knew she was going to pass away, but she wanted to see us one last time. But you know, even though I was in such a state of denial, such a state of agony, I shed not one tear. Now this was not because I was holding back, I knew I was in immense pain; I just couldn't bring myself to do so. She was an incredibly strong woman, with the most positive outlook on life; She always told me “life will always provide you with positives and negatives. I told myself that I must make this event into a positive as well. Therefore, I am beyond grateful she took the time to instill that positivity within me, to wash away the darkness housed within the past and create a positive out of it. Not once, not once did she remove that smile of hers from her face when we last saw each other and I guarantee she is still smiling to this day.

So I am asked “how do you keep such a positive demeanor?” My answer shall be as follows: “so long as my Aunt smiles, I will too.”

Thank you for everything, Auntie. 

This might seem weird to say, but people sometimes say to me “how do you keep such a positive demeanor? Even if something bad happens, you’re always so positive about it!” The first thing that always comes to my mind is “huh, I’m really not sure,” but I believe it’s about time I give a serious answer.

It all began with my elementary school days. I was staying with my father and his side of the family primarily. My father was a financial dad, nothing more, nothing less; that’s why I call him a “father,” he really was not a “dad.” To be frank, the only thing he provided me and my other 5 siblings this false reality that he had a strong sense of family; that it was our mothers holding us back from our true potential. My brother Nickolas being the eldest of the group, he was the first to tell us that our interpretations of father were wrong. I obviously denied this, I felt as though father was the rock, the backbone of our family. Nick told us “don’t worry, you all will come to realize what type of man your father is in due time.” As much as I want to believe he was wrong, he was absolutely correct; solidifying my interpretation of my father as fiscal and a divider. With this shocking revelation, I rarely felt a sort of connection with my family. This constant division between families would shroud me in a dark state of mind, bringing about distrust and lost dependence on anyone.

Yeah, this was my young life. I really tried to commit to a reconnection and relationship with my father’s side of the family, but my efforts would yield the same result every time. I was shut out of everything I wished to be included in. If the family was congregating and laughing, I was told to go somewhere else. If my dad was to watch me, I’d just be locked in the house. My only safe haven in which I felt someone would talk and connect with me was at my grandmother’s house. Grandma and Auntie would always be present and they truly provided me an outlet where I could finally express my thoughts and feelings. They never once told me “you talk too much” or “shut up” or “play outside or something,” like my father and the rest of the family had. Instead, they greeted me with open arms and actually looked pleased to see me! For once, I actually felt like my presence was not a burden, not a hindrance to someone else. I felt like I belonged. Knowing I talk a lot, they would always tell me that it was a sign of intelligence, always listening to what I had to say. In response, they would tell me seemingly infinite stories from when they grew up, how times have changed, what life lessons they learned. I had finally, finally accepted at least somewhere in the family.

Fast forward to 2017, fifteen and full of acquired knowledge from these two mother-like figures. Though mainly focused on high school and grades, I received a rare phone call from my father (how exciting). My brother and I were to be taken to my Aunt’s house for a short visit, seemingly out of the blue. This would mark the first time I saw her old, tan house in my life. My aunt looked different from the years past, she was skinny and her hair was really short. I remember telling her that I liked the style change! We spent time talking about my future and If I would uphold my promise to her that I would give her 25% of my paycheck when I reach my career goal (this was a promise I made back in elementary school, so of course I told her “yes!”). It really was a short visit though, as we ate and chatted for only about two hours or so; My father had some work he had to do and it was a school night to boot. Thus, we said our goodbyes; the last thing I said to her was “I promise I won’t be a stranger.”

Two weeks later, I received another phone call from my father. This was certainly strange behaviour, but I did not think too much of it. What I heard next was unbelievable; my Aunt had passed away from stage four pancreatic cancer. I immediately retaliated with “you can’t be serious, father! We just saw her, she looked fine to me!” But despite my ignorance, the pieces of the puzzle connected. The shaved hair, the frail body, the sudden visitation; she knew she was going to pass away, but she wanted to see us one last time. But you know, even though I was in such a state of denial, such a state of agony, I shed not one tear. Now this was not because I was holding back, I knew I was in immense pain; I just couldn't bring myself to do so. She was an incredibly strong woman, with the most positive outlook on life; She always told me “life will always provide you with positives and negatives. I told myself that I must make this event into a positive as well. Therefore, I am beyond grateful she took the time to instill that positivity within me, to wash away the darkness housed within the past and create a positive out of it. Not once, not once did she remove that smile of hers from her face when we last saw each other and I guarantee she is still smiling to this day.

So I am asked “how do you keep such a positive demeanor?” My answer shall be as follows: “so long as my Aunt smiles, I will too.”

Thank you for everything, Auntie.