The most recent and sudden shut down on my part was two years ago, when I’d tried to talk about a recent rash of Trans assaults and murders at dinner with my mother, in response to a question from one of them. My mother, my uncle, and my wife had been there. My uncle’d been working in Texas the last several years and I was aware of what he was probably hearing on the plant floor there, but his immediate dismissal of any such problem, and doubling down and mocking reports - and, a bit, me - resulted in me leaving the table and my wife and I going home early.
I avoided him after that. I wouldn’t go over if he was going to be there. I had no desire to reopen the conversation, or the wound. It was maybe a year later that, on the basis of my aunt finally able to tell us he’d agreed to be on good behavior, I went to a garden with them and my mother. I still didn’t have any real conversation - I wasn’t going to open a can of worms.
When his daughter came to me in the fall asking advice on how to handle telling people that her child had realized they (now he) was Trans, I immediately warned her that he’d done this, suggesting they tell Grandma before telling Grandpa. I was hugely relieved when I got the report that he hadn’t said anything rude. He’d so thoroughly done so with me I’d been genuinely afraid he’d do that to his own grandchild too.
In the wake of this, I thought about what an awakening it was for his rudeness (possibly a rude awakening) and wondered if he recalled how he’d mocked the risk of Trans assault and murder, staring at that risk now, embodied not in his nephew but his grandchild.
The next invitation out to their place was a birthday party for said grandchild, last spring. My uncle was careful to come to me to greet me, and offer a hug. I accepted. That’s as much as he offered.
This Christmas, he deliberately came over to me and had an adult-to-adult conversation. For him, that was as close to an apology as I’d ever expect - he invested time in trying to normalize relations.
I’ll take it.
— FriarMir
I avoided him after that. I wouldn’t go over if he was going to be there. I had no desire to reopen the conversation, or the wound. It was maybe a year later that, on the basis of my aunt finally able to tell us he’d agreed to be on good behavior, I went to a garden with them and my mother. I still didn’t have any real conversation - I wasn’t going to open a can of worms.
When his daughter came to me in the fall asking advice on how to handle telling people that her child had realized they (now he) was Trans, I immediately warned her that he’d done this, suggesting they tell Grandma before telling Grandpa. I was hugely relieved when I got the report that he hadn’t said anything rude. He’d so thoroughly done so with me I’d been genuinely afraid he’d do that to his own grandchild too.
In the wake of this, I thought about what an awakening it was for his rudeness (possibly a rude awakening) and wondered if he recalled how he’d mocked the risk of Trans assault and murder, staring at that risk now, embodied not in his nephew but his grandchild.
The next invitation out to their place was a birthday party for said grandchild, last spring. My uncle was careful to come to me to greet me, and offer a hug. I accepted. That’s as much as he offered.
This Christmas, he deliberately came over to me and had an adult-to-adult conversation. For him, that was as close to an apology as I’d ever expect - he invested time in trying to normalize relations.
I’ll take it.
— FriarMir
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