I'm tired of pretending that my grandpa was a saint. He was an absolutely horrible person.
I (26, NB) have taken quite a long time to get over my grandpa's passing away back in 2015. And as of last year, I have come to terms with it. As of this year, I have also come to terms that he was an abusive, controlling, narcissistic, manipulative piece of shit.
My grandpa used to spank me for every little thing that made him mad, even if I didn't know that what I was doing was wrong. The only reason he stopped spanking me was because I eventually grew stronger with time, and his strength faded with age.
My grandpa was severely homophobic. He would go into these fits of rage every time he saw any LGBTQIA+ person on TV, and rant about how they were ruining America. He even made fun of my grandma for watching "Ellen", because Ellen was a lesbian, which prompted my grandma to not watch the show anymore. It was also said that the last time he saw his youngest brother, my grandpa got into a big fight with his youngest brother, because he had come out as gay shortly after their father died. He also threatened to shoot me if I ever came out as LGBTQIA+ when I was 11. Because of this (and my grandma's being a bible thumper, since my grandpa was an atheist), I don't plan on coming out as bisexual until after my grandma dies.
My grandpa was also VERY racist. When I was 6, I had picked up some Spanish from watching "Dora the Explorer", and from playing with other kids my age, who grew up in Spanish-speaking households. When we went to this Mexican buffet, I told the waitress "Thank you" in Spanish, and she actually had a big smile on her face when I thanked her in Spanish. My grandpa was really red in the face. He bent down to my level and whispered aggressively, "Young lady, we do NOT speak Spanish here. This is America. And here in America, we speak ENGLISH. I don't want to hear another word of Spanish come out of your stupid little mouth again." Suffice to say, I've had a tougher time learning Spanish than I did with Japanese.
My grandpa used to look at pretty girls on TV like a lecher. And then every time a gorilla walked on TV on the science channel, he'd point at it and be like, "Hey, look. It's your grandma."
When I was 6, I got into big trouble for bringing an imaginary friend to school. He ended up spanking me for it, and throwing away my favorite VCR tape as a punishment. And then when I was 8, I got spanked for singing "Pancakes, pancakes, eat 'em with a fork" on the school bus.
When I was 6, he yelled at me for telling a boy at Vacation Bible School that I had a big crush on that I wanted to marry him, and embarrassing the boy in the process. He told me off for being "stupid", and that if I did that again, I would be severely punished. This is why I only had 2 crushes during my teen years, and I can't bring up the courage to confess any feelings as an adult.
My grandpa wouldn't let me eat anything with a cartoon mascot when I was growing up, because "only spoiled brats eat those". (He was also diabetic due to the Agent Orange killing his pancreas, so I wasn't allowed to eat anything sugary or anything that appeared in a commercial during a Saturday morning cartoon.) Hence why I have wasted every dollar on any food with a cartoon mascot as an adult, and on Chuck E. Cheese's.
My grandpa often scolded me for getting any B's on my report card, claiming, "You could have gotten all A-pluses. You just don't try hard enough." And when I struggled with math, he'd get mad at me and be all, "This is what happens when you don't pay attention in school, and play stupid games on your stupid Game Boy all day." (I had a PS2 when I was a kid.)
At one point, when I was adamant about not helping him mix the concrete or starting a brush fire, proclaiming, "I'M NOT YOUR SLAVE!" He actually got super pissed, and yelled "GO GET FAT!" while kicking my butt to where I got knocked on the ground. That was the last time he laid his hands on me.
When my grandpa died, I was already living with my dad, who had taken full custody of me the year before. And living with my dad was just as hellish as living with my grandparents.
At first, I'd go into big bouts of depression, because I missed him greatly, and because my grandma was super miserable without him. But over time, and especially this year, I eventually came to my senses, and realized that my grandpa was an abusive prick, and that my grandma was just as bad for allowing him to abuse me like he did, just because it was "how he was raised".
Coming to those terms has brought me a lot of peace of mind, and has strengthened my resolve to move out as soon as possible.
As soon as I move out of my uncle and aunt's place, and get my cat from my grandma, I'm going limited contact with her, keeping in contact only through Facebook messenger, and only visiting twice a year, such as for Christmas and the Family Reunion held every second Sunday of July.
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