THE PENNY PUB
My Traditions Fell Apart When My Family Did
Divorce and estrangement obliterated my traditions
My parents grew up, met, and married in Central Illinois, but we moved to the Denver, Colorado area when I was three years old because of my dad’s job. As a result, “family” meant me, my parents, and my younger sibling.
We would drive to Illinois every Thanksgiving break and for about a week each summer to visit grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, but most of our traditions involved just the four of us.
While it might have been nice to have grown up closer to extended family, I quite liked our small family unit — or I liked the idea of it, anyway. The yearly Thanksgiving trips to Illinois were always overwhelming, which makes more sense now that I know I’m autistic. But at the time, I was just a painfully shy child who didn’t know how to interact with all these people I was related to but didn’t have a close connection with.
Once my sibling and I reached adulthood, the dynamics in our little family unit started to shift and change. My sibling met their partner when they were in their early 20s, and they were warmly welcomed into the family. However, I think that partner may have influenced my sibling to cut contact with me three times in four years, with the…
