No Known Relatives

I used to work with people with severe and chronic mental illness. For many, their medical records indicated  “no known relatives.” Obviously, it didn’t mean they had no relatives, just that there were no records of who they could have been.

I think technically it would be my story, too. I have no immediate family. Both my parents are gone (they’ve been for over 30 years) and I have no siblings, so I’ve been completely on my own for that long. This is not a sob story. It’s just the way it is.

I have relatives, but I’ve never been close to them. Except for one cousin (who lives in another country), I don’t even know their addresses or phone numbers. I suppose as I think of mortality, I think, do I want to reconnect? What’s the point? 

So, I guess, I have no known relatives (except for one). Is that a bad thing? I used to feel sad for the clients, because it’s like no one cared about them. Now, it’s more my choice that I didn’t want to feel obligated to keep in touch (they did try) for the sake of  keeping in touch. I’m just not interested.

When I’m gone, I don’t care about being remembered. It’s just a blip in the grand scheme of the universe.

Geez, this sounds more morbid than I intended. Sorry. Well, I did call my blog “Life, Friendship, and Random Thoughts.”