Ending An Era: Part VI - The Aftermath

I continued for the next few days to get back to people's condolences. I took an extra day off work to get my head screwed back on, catch up on sleep and return to normal eating habits, and to stew over the awful cold-shoulder I'd gotten from that family I thought was mine, and to reflect on the family that appeared from out the woodwork. Grampa was in the ground and now there was nothing left. Before they closed the casket, they allowed just us, his family, to come up to the casket one last time. C and M and their four kids and K had taken up most of the space, I couldn't even see Grampa with the room they'd left for me. C had misspelled my name in the obituary on purpose because he didn't approve the of the "G" in it. "That's not the name your mother gave you", even though at the same time I'd changed the spelling to a G I'd also changed my last name to my mother's last name, the same one he had.

The squabble over the pictures was quite enlightening. It made me realize that C did what he did because he has no respect for me, and that I don't deserve to be stuck in a family that thinks so low of me. Uncle K was pretty much gone this whole time; his dad had died on his birthday and because they were so close it was clear K was torn up, so he gets a bit of a pass for his attitude toward me, though throughout the years he has been just as distant as the others. He doesn't disrespect me, he just acts like I don't exist.

So I fumed, and fumed, and fumed. C called a few days later and told me to come by and pick up the pictures from "your mother's wedding." Again, no acknowledgment that I had two parents. I texted him I'd be there the next day, and prepared myself a speech to let his ass have it.
I get to the house and I see K's truck and all the kids inside, and since I wasn't going to call C and K out in front of the children, I chose to just go inside and get the pictures and leave. They were eating pizza. C offered me a piece.
"No, I'm meeting friends for dinner. Just give me the pictures. My pictures."
Before I rip them out of your hands and beat you in the head with the fucking book...
He repeated me, "Just give me the pictures...okay, then." And he handed them to me.
And then I walked out.

I got an email from him a week later that him and K were not planning to sell the house, that he had a copy of the will and that if I had any questions or anything on my mind to please say so.
I emailed him back thanking him for the update. I explained to him that I did have things on my mind but that they concerned primarily me, him and K and that discussing those concerns so soon after Grampa's death wasn't good and in the future a conversation would be had.
I haven't heard from him since.

My initial feeling was that I was going to sit my uncles down and make them explain to me what they're problem with me all these years has been, to call them out on their bullshit with not acknowledging my dad and to make them decide if I was still a part of this family or not.
But I already know, I'm not a part of this family, and with time, my anger at them both has dissipated. I'm not as much angry anymore as I am finished. C will never have the opportunity to make up for the disrespect he showed me during Grampa's funeral; you only bury someone once. That damage is done and is permanent. Because I've never had a real relationship with them, there's no relationship to save/fix. They don't need to decide whether I'm a part of their family or not, they decided that years ago, it's just a formality now. I don't want to know what their problem with me all these years has been because I don't care what their problem is. And because I'm leaving Ohio, they won't have to deal with me anyway. We could still play fake-family, and I can be a once-a-year phone call they ignore, a catch-up email at Christmas they don't have to read. No harm, right?