My aunt visited today, bringing along her daughter and son-in-law. They came bearing some expensive wine and a selection of fine meats, but to my surprise, Mum sent them packing straight away.
My mother comes from a rather large family. She once had six siblings, though now only three remain. Mum and one of her sisters both live here in the same village. They work hard during the summer and get by in the winter on what they’ve managed to save. Like most folks around here, we all tend vegetable patches in the back garden to help make ends meet.
The other of Mums sisters left for the city years ago. Shes got a lovely flat and even has a house by the lake these days. Her husband is a director at some construction company, and theyve done quite well for themselves. Of course, it wasnt always like thisthey both grew up in the countryside, and Mum and my aunt always helped them when they could. But after their fortunes changed, they seemed to forget about us.
Not long ago, Mum accidentally found out that her sister had married off her daughter. At first, she was shocked, but pretended she already knewhow could she admit, even to friends, that her own sister hadnt invited her to her niece’s wedding? Anyone would have been embarrassed in her position.
Mum came home that day and told her other sister everything. My aunt couldnt believe it eithershe was deeply hurt. Together they decided to phone their city sister to offer congratulations, perhaps to prick her conscience. All they received in return was a flat, cold thank you before the phone was put down.
Something must have stirred in their sister, though, because she gathered her husband and daughter and made the effort to visit us. Sadly, the pain ran too deep for Mum. She turned them away at the door, saying that if we werent good enough for a seat at the restaurant and the wedding because were just villagers while theyve become so grand, then they shouldnt bother coming to our home, either.
To make matters worse, her sisters husband admitted they were ashamed of usand that if we ever set foot in their fancy restaurant, the whole place would stink of pork. Mum was so wounded by his words that she told them not to return, that she never wanted to see them again. Of course, our other aunt stood by Mums side and declared she had nothing more to say to them, either.
I found myself reflecting on how pride and resentment can chip away at even the oldest family bonds, all over a wedding invite and the chasm between village life and city airs. How quickly fortunes change, and how easily the threads of kinship unravel.
