A gathering with my mom’s side of the family’s relatives today will be fun. They crack jokes and are all chill as hell. They all very much want to be friends with you, and I have never heard one of them talk badly about anyone behind their backs. Even if it is to celebrate a holiday I don’t celebrate, I enjoy getting together with my mom’s side of the family.
I enjoy getting together with my dad’s side of the family too, but it is different in that I know they are all judging me. Not necessarily all of them, but I feel like I am preparing for battle in a way when I see them. I have to make sure everything about me – my outfit, my makeup (war paint), my demeanor – is perfect.
Not that it matters, though, because I am cognizant of one fact. Without a doubt, most of my dad’s family judges me for my significant reduction in intelligence after my brain injury over a decade ago. It’s okay, though, because I know none of them would not dare say a mean word to me. They are all very kind to my face.
Things We Forget 
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