The Outsider

We just got back from spending a week with

my husband’s siblings.

You couldn’t ask for a kinder, more congenial and fun group.

Sometimes I think they are nicer to me than my own family.

Yet no matter how hard we try,

I am not one of them.

They connect.

Do you see what I’m saying?

I’ve been going to their family reunions for 59 years;

I’m still an outsider.

From the beginning,

all of the men were accepted

even if they smoke or drink

or are womanizers.

Well, if they smoke,

they may have to stand outside the circle while smoking

but as soon as they put the cigarette out, they are welcomed in.

Whereas

a woman in-law

can be the epitome of virtue,

a flawless homemaker,

wife and mother;

devoted to duty, honorable, kind.

(not me; but others I know)

Still she is never acknowledged

or truly accepted;

she even may be scorned behind her back.

I’ve heard it.

She can peel the potatoes

and wash the dishes.

Of course.
When Amy was little,
she resented Grandpa offering the boys,
but never the girls,
a quarter
to gather wood,
pick up the trash around camp,
or catch a chipmunk.

“I can’t feel too rejected,” I say to my husband.

“Your dad treats your mother the same way—or worse.”

Maybe the high altitude and inconvenience of camping

were not the only reasons she didn’t like to come.

In bygone days, men were socialized to meet

the stereotypes of macho men;

It’s hard for them

to give up the stance of supremacy

and embrace equal rights and radical things like that.

Maybe that is still a hint of a problem today -

not acknowledged; but hard to let go.

Or is it just plain and simple that

 blood is thicker than water?