How Volcanoes Form

My grandfather used to tell me, “All the burden you carry in this world is like holding a bunch of stones. At some point you'll be buried beneath the weight." He would tell this to me everyday, and finally end our conversations saying, "You might as well carry the whole damn realm." Grandpa never made since to me when I was growing up. He made even less sense after my father "inherited" the family business.

Mom would talk about our grandparents. Somedays it sounded as though she was defending them. Trying to explain the different era they grew up. Trying to build and maintain a foundation I would never understand. "It's just how they grew up," my mother would tell my siblings and myself. My favorite excuse so far had been, "They came into the world like that." I know now she was doing her best trying to keep the peace in our family. Resolving conflicts, putting herself between my father and her children. These days I realized after seeing what she put herself through, the struggle within the family, made me understand what my grandfather had been saying this whole time. She did what she could to maintain peace and was buried by the problems of others. As for the man who raised me, he was worse than his own father.

After my father took over the family business, he talked about making changes in the realm. He seemed to follow in his father’s footsteps, more than even he would realize or ever admit. He felt the power of his new role. Knowing what his own father endured to keep everything, he shunned his own brothers and sisters sending them away. There siblings that helped him achieve his goal in to running the entire empire. He turned his back on his family to keep what he “earned.” Never to feel that lingering shadow of fear overhead as he took command. Only when his first child was born that the feeling of fear began to resurface.

I am the oldest son, and fourth oldest child, of six siblings total. I have three older sisters and two younger brothers. We grew up together in the same household. Our mother watched over us making sure to keep as much distance from our father as possible. Sadly we all believed it to be a waste of energy seeing as our father ignored us throughout our lives. In his eyes we did not seem to exist. The more he focused on controlling everything around him the more he seemed to push everyone away further.

As I said, he followed in his father's footsteps more than anyone realized. My older sisters were neglected so much he seemed to notice their very existence. Out of everyone it was my eldest sister that became our savior, for a time. She knew what our mother went through more than any of us, but she remained by her side helping everyone as best she could. It wasn't until our youngest brother was born that everything changed.

On the day of his birth our mother had told father he had passed during birth. It was one of the few times I saw my dad smile. Mom had hidden my brother away on the day of his birth faking his death and sending him away with her family. With my father keeping himself busy he barely noticed his wife’s absences throughout the year. When my brother became of age he entered our lives and showed us a new way of life. On that day not only did I gain a brother, but I gained my freedom.

           Was it time for change? Did the fates have a different direction for us? Or did my little brother have more backbone than me? The way he stood up to our father, fighting back, I began hating myself. No matter how I see it, even as the world changes, I feel as though I should have made the first move. Taken the first steps. Could I have been a better son? A better brother? I began to wonder if this is what grandfather meant of the burden and weight you carry. Even to this day I still don't know.

After our fathers, "downfall," he was forced to step aside. We set the youngest in charge while one of my sisters, the third oldest, overlooked everything becoming his partner. My two older sisters didn't want the responsibility. Finally being done with our father they took their own paths in life. My brother, the fifth sibling, took charge of the companies shipping department. He apparently conducted oversea deals. My eldest sister started a refuge for those in need of comfort and protection. The second oldest focused on politics, we barely keep in touch with one another.

I took a path staying in the business of making money. I learned a lot from my father and his, but I also knew how to keep people happy as well. I keep to the underground scenes. I’m a little older than I was when I started but a few friends and nephews came and helped along the way. I built my empire from some of the ashes my grandfather left behind. Literal ashes in some cases. When I think back to how I arrived to where I am now, I think of the path it took to get here.

I become quite nostalgic when I reminisce about where I started. Only days after my fathers “downfall” I spent some time to myself. The very land I walked on seemed new to me, even the rocky path along the ocean. It was the first time I could remember walking against that path. Waves washing over my feet. It’s the earliest memory I can recall of the ocean touching my bare skin. During the walk I began to feel strange, almost…heavy. For some reason this brought me back to what my grandfather had said about burdens and stones. Below my feet the rocks and stones pushed their way through my skin. I felt no pain. Instead I felt, curiosity.

I knelt down and picked up a stone, no bigger than my finger, and began walking. Along the way I would pick up another stone, and then another, and so on, continuing the process every few feet. After some time, I began to name my little stones. Beginning with my emotions. I would name them by how I felt, sadness, anger, joy, and many others. Overtime I held them for so long they became a single stone, a boulder. As time moved forward I continued to gather more carrying them on my back.

I'm not certain when I dropped the rocks, some larger than my body, but I had enough. I knew then that the only thing left of me was the pure anger. To my father and his father, and even to myself. As the stones laid at my feet. I felt failure yet again. Everything that I should have done, to make a change for everyone, and all I saw was failure. I released my rage.

My anger poured from the very ground. The land seemed to change with me. The ground beneath slowly rising higher and higher. The oceans waves crashed making even my brother notice what was happening. He called upon two of my sisters to come aide me with his help. They saw what I had done and were horrified, but overtime they were amazed by what came later. New lands, growth, and people. With my families help we made wonders I couldn’t have fathomed.

I had created destruction and fires among the wilderness. With the tears of my sisters, and the help of my brother, they helped wash away the mess I created. With time we saw new life grow from the old. I learned a new truth that day from my eldest sister, "Burdens don't need to be carried alone. That's why annoying siblings are here to help." 

After a few years I gave these, volcanoes, to my nephew. He had quite a gift of turning things into something wonderous and new. I still create the mountains, the pressure building underneath over the years. For now, I enjoy the company of a lovely pomegranate.