I thought I had it all worked out.
I thought I had it under control.
I thought I knew just what I was supposed to do, how God was telling me to handle the situation.
I thought the wound had healed, that for once in so many years, I had actually put all the pain, and the hurt behind me.
Then one phone call, one turn of the phrase turned my world upside down.
It had been a good day. Really, it had. Richard and I had had the chance to spend some quality time with Kevin, our oldest son, at lunch. We'd finally been able to put the stress of his impending trip to San Antonio behind us, and really enjoy each other's company. I received an email from MSU wanting more information for my financial aid paperwork. (Yes, I know that to some, the idea of having to deal with more red tape and bureaucracy is more of a pain than a pleasure, but for me, it was a tangible evidence that this "Back to School" thing is actually going to happen..that I'm finally moving forward, and writing a new chapter in this extremely strange novel that is my life.) I went out to dinner with the beautiful, wonderful, and amazing ladies in my Lifegroup from Onelife, and for the first time in a very long time.. I didn't feel so alone. I even finally got enough nerve to actually call my Dad and tell him about my going back to school, and although he wasn't really too thrilled with my choice of a major - being the pragmatist he is, the idea of what I could do with a degree in psychology/social work, or even -why- I might want to deal with things that are so messy as feelings, wasn't something he understood fully - he told me he was proud of me, and that he loved me. I don't care how old you get, hearing your Dad say those things to you warms your heart, especially when they're not given lightly, and you know it.
Then, he asked a simple question. It wasn't earth-shaking, nothing traumatic. "Have you heard from your Mom or sister in the past couple of days?" Not an unusual question really, no more unusual than "How's the weather down there?" in conversation with my Dad. The truth be told, I think he asks it sometimes because he knows those relationships are broken, and being a man somewhat uncomfortable in his own emotions, he doesn't know how to ask how I'm dealing with things, how things or going or if I'm dealing with it okay, so he asks if I've talked to them. I replied with my usual response, "No, not this week. How are things there?". Usually when I ask, Dad will share some sort of story about how he talked to my stepdad at work, or some tale about how my niece or nephew are doing.
This time , however, his reaction was very different. His voice grew very quiet, and took a very serious tone. "Your Mom's back in the hospital. She had a lump under her arm, and they took her in to get it checked out. They admitted her, and the last I heard, they think it may be a blood clot."
Ironically, at that point, that news didn't really phase me. Mom's not been in good health for some time, so it wasn't really surprising. There was no melodramatic crescendo.. it was just another day, another story, more of the same old same old that I've gotten used to in the reality of my mom's life over the past few years.
Then, as I continued my conversation with my Dad on my cell phone, my house phone began to ring. I noticed a strange expression on Richard's face as he looked at the caller-id, and a certain hesitance in his voice when he answered, and greeted the caller with his "hello". Only a few seconds passed, before he looked at me and said, "Dee, it's your Mom. She's calling from the hospital. I think you'd better take this."
Something in his tone, in his expression left no doubt in my mind or heart that I should, although in all truthfulness, I really didn't want to do so. My Mom has a tendency to be a bit of a drama queen, and after a good day, I really wasn't in the mood for a self-imposed pity party, or another one of her "iron fist in a velvet glove" sessions of her telling me how wrong I am, how ugly I am, how I should never have been born. I had intentionally closed that chapter of my life.. I had dealt with it all, and just wanted to move on.
I really don't know why I said okay. On some levels, I wish I hadn't..but I did.
Hurriedly saying goodbye to my dad, I switched one phone , one conversation for another, expecting to be placing myself in the line of fire to become an "emotional punching bag" for my Mom, as I usually am, when she's in stressful or bad situations.
The voice I heard on the other end of that line was one I hadn't heard before. Maybe it was because she was heavily drugged, I don't know.. but as Mom told me about her admission to the hospital, and her two days in ICU, there was something frail, something vulnerable, so apparent in her words, and tone, that it took me by surprise. We talked a few moments about the doctors and their thoughts on her condition... and then she confirmed what I had been afraid of since Dad had told me she'd been in the hospital - that they think perhaps the cancer that's been eating her up for years now had spread to the bone.
At that very moment, that very instant, I felt like someone had hit me in the stomach, hard.. hard enough to knock the breath out of me.
You see, I know what that means. Given Mom's condition, if the cancer has spread, the chances of her recovering from it, of there being a treatment for it, are slim to none. The diagnosis will more than likely be terminal.
I'm trying to think positively here, to remind myself that they don't know for certain, that they haven't finished testing yet, that things could be totally different..but the truth is, I think I've felt for sometime now, that this was how things would go, that the cancer would eventually overwhelm her body. It's been too constant a companion for her for too long for it simply to just.. go away.
And with that reality.. my own reality was turned upside down.
As much as I might have thought that I had the situation under control, as much as I'd thought I had gotten some type of "closure" in my relationship with my Mom, the reality that she might soon be facing death, ripped away all the illusion, leaving me once more with this huge gaping wound in my heart..and not a band-aid in sight.
I thought that God had been showing me that it was time for me to move on, to not be held back by the hurts of the past...that my life didn't have to be defined by those things, that I could choose to go on, to let it all go. I had even grown sure that I wouldn't even go back for my Mom's funeral, that I had said my goodbyes, and that's all there was.
And now.. now, I have no clue where God's going with all this. Just when I get good and settled in what I think is His will, He seems to be taking me in just the opposite direction.
I don't know.. maybe He's telling me that letting go isn't enough, that forgiveness isn't enough. Maybe now He thinks I'm ready to take the next step, to see if there's more that can come now.
I can't lie, there's a part of me that still dreams that there could be healing there. Every little girl wants their mother to love them, and I'm no exception.
Then again, this could all just be some trick of the enemy, some sort of game with my head and heart, to throw me off the track of the growth I've accomplished.
The problem is, I've had these hopes so often, only to see them dashed, I'm scared to open up to even that possibility now. I shouldn't be afraid of hurt, I know that, especially when God's in the equation... but I am. So many times, I've reached out to my Mom, praying that things would be different, only to have my heart broken again. So many times, I've thought that maybe the illness would change her heart, and she could love me for who I was - and there were times that it seemed to, and I'd begin to hope, only to have that hope totally trashed when she felt a little better. I don't want to go there. I just don't want to go there. I've only just now begun to get to the point that I've started to accept myself for who I am, I don't want to go back to being the person that I was, the girl who was so locked up in all that pain for all those years.
To top it all off, Mom hasn't even had the bone scan yet. I may be putting myself through all of this for nothing. And with that in mind.. -why- am I doing just that..? Putting myself through this! Obviously there's something, some glitch in this armor of mine that's allowing it.. what do I do with that?
I thought I had it all worked out.
I thought I had it under control.
I thought I knew just what I was supposed to do, how God was telling me to handle the situation.
I thought the wound had healed, that for once in so many years, I had actually put all the pain, and the hurt behind me.
Then one phone call, one turn of the phrase turned my world upside down.
So, what the Heck am I supposed to do now?
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Keep on Doing Weird Things...
"People won’t understand you. They will think the things you do are
strange.Your work will go unappreciated. Your contribution may feel
marginalized. People will suggest that you are not important.
But keep going for it. Be persistent. Have tenacity. Keep doing weird
things. If you keep singing, good things will eventually come. Good things
like Lenny Kravitz." - via Mike Foster, People of the Second Chance Blog.
strange.Your work will go unappreciated. Your contribution may feel
marginalized. People will suggest that you are not important.
But keep going for it. Be persistent. Have tenacity. Keep doing weird
things. If you keep singing, good things will eventually come. Good things
like Lenny Kravitz." - via Mike Foster, People of the Second Chance Blog.
Friday, July 16, 2010
I Love My Husband
I love my husband. I love my husband. I freakin' LOVE my husband.
Maybe if I keep telling myself that, I'll finally believe it. :)
Actually, that's not really true. I do love my husband, and if there's anything in this world I'm certain of , it is that.. after 15 years, marrying him twice, and following him to the ends of the earth, I think the time for second thoughts is long past. :)
Still, to say that this past week has been a challenging time in our relationship might be a bit of an understatement. His upcoming 6 week long trip to San Antonio at the military's request has us both more than slightly at wits' end. We both know that things like this are simply a part of the military life, and we both are very aware that it could be worse - many families are currently being separated for much longer than 6 weeks, and under much worse circumstances than only being a 6 or so hour drive apart. We've been trying to keep ourselves busy with other activities, so that our minds are occupied and we don't think about what is to come. We even tell ourselves that it won't really be a whole 6 weeks, since the kids and I are planning to go down and visit him for a nice weekend before school starts, and he's planning on trying to come home for a weekend at around the 4 week or so mark, if he can.
And yet, none of those reassurances, none of those comforting thoughts is really making this any easier for us. The fact that he has to leave soon is like a big ugly stinky elephant in the room, even if we don't acknowledge it. We still get stressed, and all that anxiety, and uncertainty, all that dread, and displeasure evidences itself in griping and sniping at one another. It's insane really.. you'd think we'd be spending these last 2 weeks before he leaves making the most of our time together, and instead, we've spent at least one of them doing nothing constructive in our relationship at all.
So, realizing that I couldn't handle this on my own, I did what I always do when things get stressful and hard like this. I called my Daddy - my heavenly Father, that is. Don't get me wrong, my earthly father is an amazing man, and I love him dearly, he gives great advice when I do call on him, but this time..this time I just needed the peace that only my Heavenly Father can provide.
Our conversation was an interesting one. After rattling off a long list of complaints about Richard, and a general whinefest about the situation as a whole, God responded. His answer, and the conversation that followed was one I didn't really expect.
"Leave him to me."
"But..But Daddy, I'm scared. I'm insecure, I mean, what if...?"
"Leave Richard, and the what-ifs, and everything about this situation to me, Dee. I'm in control of this. Haven't I seen you through so much already? Trust me on this one. I've got it under control. I've got your back. Just leave it all to me."
"But God, what if Richard's not the man I want him to be, the man I think he needs to be to meet my emotional needs while he's away.."
"Dee.. I know you better than anyone else. I knew you before you were born, I know the number of hairs on your head By the way, the red color's nice.. I like it, much closer to the color I gave you..."
"Thanks, Dad, I like it too! And the glaze stuff Jill put on it last time... -loving- it! Too cool! But anyway.. you were saying...?"
"Oh, yes.. now where was I? Ahh, yes. Dee, no one knows you better or loves you more than I do. I know what is perfect for you, what you need in a husband, probably even more than you do. Haven't I always promised you that I would give you greater things than you could ever imagine for yourself if you would just trust Me, and follow My will? That what I have in store for you is greater by far than what you may think you want? Richard may not always seem to live up to your romantic notions, he may not be the romantic hero that so many of my kids seem to think that Rob Pattinson guy from Twilight is, but.."
"Um..Daddy? I don't like Rob Pattinson.."
"Yes, yes, I know that, Dee. Duhh! I'm only God of everything, I think I figured that one out! Honestly, that whole shimmering vampire thing kind of wrankles my robes, too. How about that Jensen Ackles fellow you're so fond of, then?"
"Much better!"
" Okay Jensen Ackles it is. Back to My point, then. Dee, Richard may not always live up to your ideas of what you think he -should- be..he may not seem the most romantic soul at times, and I know that at times, he falls short of what you might expect..but I created him, as well, and I'm the one that gave you two a heart for one another. Don't you think that in him, I've given you a man that is -more- than what you've dreamed of? I've given you a man that -I- as your father, the One who loves you best, dreams of for you. Don't worry, Dee. Leave him to me. Trust me. Let go, and just love him. Let Me take care of everything else."
"Yes, Sir...I get it, Daddy, and you're right. I'm sorry that it took me this long to see it... but.. umm.. Daddy?"
"Yes, dear?"
"About Richard leaving his dirty underwear on the bathroom floor in the morning..do You think You could..."
"Already on it!"
Okay, obviously, I've embellished a bit on the "conversation", although truthfully, not that much. I tend to have some rather quirky dialogue with my creator from time to time. And don't worry, no, I'm not hearing disembodied voices or having auditory hallucinations, either.. this is just what I felt God was teaching me in that moment.
And as usual.. He was right. Of course, He's God, that's sort of status quo, isn't it? :) Everything that's happening right now, is according to His will, just as it's supposed to..and even though I may hate the idea of Richard being away for 6 weeks, God is working His purpose even in our time apart. I don't have to worry about what Richard may do, or not do, while he's there - my Daddy's got his eye on him, and trust me, if he messes up, my Daddy will definitely let him know about it- and my Daddy can totally kick butt if he wants to! Remember that whole flood thing? But more than that, as Daddy reminded me.. while no marriage is perfect, because no human is perfect..we all fail and disappoint one another from time to time.. God created us with a heart for one another. It wasn't just some huge cosmic accident that we came to be together. It was His plan..and the God who loves me so much that He sent His son to die so that He could have a relationship with me, would never have given me anything but the person that is best for me...someone who may not be perfect..but is perfect for me.
So, after all this, do I feel any better about Richard going away? Honestly, I still hate the idea, I still miss him already, I still worry about how the boys will do in his absence. I'm still a little scared, and uncertain.. but I do know, without a shadow of a doubt, that it -will- be okay.. and that Someone far greater than I is there for me, and for Richard, and our family.
And I'm choosing to trust Him.
Maybe if I keep telling myself that, I'll finally believe it. :)
Actually, that's not really true. I do love my husband, and if there's anything in this world I'm certain of , it is that.. after 15 years, marrying him twice, and following him to the ends of the earth, I think the time for second thoughts is long past. :)
Still, to say that this past week has been a challenging time in our relationship might be a bit of an understatement. His upcoming 6 week long trip to San Antonio at the military's request has us both more than slightly at wits' end. We both know that things like this are simply a part of the military life, and we both are very aware that it could be worse - many families are currently being separated for much longer than 6 weeks, and under much worse circumstances than only being a 6 or so hour drive apart. We've been trying to keep ourselves busy with other activities, so that our minds are occupied and we don't think about what is to come. We even tell ourselves that it won't really be a whole 6 weeks, since the kids and I are planning to go down and visit him for a nice weekend before school starts, and he's planning on trying to come home for a weekend at around the 4 week or so mark, if he can.
And yet, none of those reassurances, none of those comforting thoughts is really making this any easier for us. The fact that he has to leave soon is like a big ugly stinky elephant in the room, even if we don't acknowledge it. We still get stressed, and all that anxiety, and uncertainty, all that dread, and displeasure evidences itself in griping and sniping at one another. It's insane really.. you'd think we'd be spending these last 2 weeks before he leaves making the most of our time together, and instead, we've spent at least one of them doing nothing constructive in our relationship at all.
So, realizing that I couldn't handle this on my own, I did what I always do when things get stressful and hard like this. I called my Daddy - my heavenly Father, that is. Don't get me wrong, my earthly father is an amazing man, and I love him dearly, he gives great advice when I do call on him, but this time..this time I just needed the peace that only my Heavenly Father can provide.
Our conversation was an interesting one. After rattling off a long list of complaints about Richard, and a general whinefest about the situation as a whole, God responded. His answer, and the conversation that followed was one I didn't really expect.
"Leave him to me."
"But..But Daddy, I'm scared. I'm insecure, I mean, what if...?"
"Leave Richard, and the what-ifs, and everything about this situation to me, Dee. I'm in control of this. Haven't I seen you through so much already? Trust me on this one. I've got it under control. I've got your back. Just leave it all to me."
"But God, what if Richard's not the man I want him to be, the man I think he needs to be to meet my emotional needs while he's away.."
"Dee.. I know you better than anyone else. I knew you before you were born, I know the number of hairs on your head By the way, the red color's nice.. I like it, much closer to the color I gave you..."
"Thanks, Dad, I like it too! And the glaze stuff Jill put on it last time... -loving- it! Too cool! But anyway.. you were saying...?"
"Oh, yes.. now where was I? Ahh, yes. Dee, no one knows you better or loves you more than I do. I know what is perfect for you, what you need in a husband, probably even more than you do. Haven't I always promised you that I would give you greater things than you could ever imagine for yourself if you would just trust Me, and follow My will? That what I have in store for you is greater by far than what you may think you want? Richard may not always seem to live up to your romantic notions, he may not be the romantic hero that so many of my kids seem to think that Rob Pattinson guy from Twilight is, but.."
"Um..Daddy? I don't like Rob Pattinson.."
"Yes, yes, I know that, Dee. Duhh! I'm only God of everything, I think I figured that one out! Honestly, that whole shimmering vampire thing kind of wrankles my robes, too. How about that Jensen Ackles fellow you're so fond of, then?"
"Much better!"
" Okay Jensen Ackles it is. Back to My point, then. Dee, Richard may not always live up to your ideas of what you think he -should- be..he may not seem the most romantic soul at times, and I know that at times, he falls short of what you might expect..but I created him, as well, and I'm the one that gave you two a heart for one another. Don't you think that in him, I've given you a man that is -more- than what you've dreamed of? I've given you a man that -I- as your father, the One who loves you best, dreams of for you. Don't worry, Dee. Leave him to me. Trust me. Let go, and just love him. Let Me take care of everything else."
"Yes, Sir...I get it, Daddy, and you're right. I'm sorry that it took me this long to see it... but.. umm.. Daddy?"
"Yes, dear?"
"About Richard leaving his dirty underwear on the bathroom floor in the morning..do You think You could..."
"Already on it!"
Okay, obviously, I've embellished a bit on the "conversation", although truthfully, not that much. I tend to have some rather quirky dialogue with my creator from time to time. And don't worry, no, I'm not hearing disembodied voices or having auditory hallucinations, either.. this is just what I felt God was teaching me in that moment.
And as usual.. He was right. Of course, He's God, that's sort of status quo, isn't it? :) Everything that's happening right now, is according to His will, just as it's supposed to..and even though I may hate the idea of Richard being away for 6 weeks, God is working His purpose even in our time apart. I don't have to worry about what Richard may do, or not do, while he's there - my Daddy's got his eye on him, and trust me, if he messes up, my Daddy will definitely let him know about it- and my Daddy can totally kick butt if he wants to! Remember that whole flood thing? But more than that, as Daddy reminded me.. while no marriage is perfect, because no human is perfect..we all fail and disappoint one another from time to time.. God created us with a heart for one another. It wasn't just some huge cosmic accident that we came to be together. It was His plan..and the God who loves me so much that He sent His son to die so that He could have a relationship with me, would never have given me anything but the person that is best for me...someone who may not be perfect..but is perfect for me.
So, after all this, do I feel any better about Richard going away? Honestly, I still hate the idea, I still miss him already, I still worry about how the boys will do in his absence. I'm still a little scared, and uncertain.. but I do know, without a shadow of a doubt, that it -will- be okay.. and that Someone far greater than I is there for me, and for Richard, and our family.
And I'm choosing to trust Him.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Embracing my Inner "Bee Girl"...
When it comes to the walk of life, I've always felt like I was slightly out of step with the world around me, and those within it. "Marching to the beat of a different drum", some might say of me.
In the eyes of most, however, I'm sure they'd say that I'm just plain -weird-.
And they're probably right.
Ironically enough, I think I've always known that I wasn't like the proverbial "others". I distinctly remember wondering, even as a child, if I was adopted, or somehow, someway genetically altered to be different from those around me, those in my small-town hometown corner of the world. At one time, I even wondered if I was the unexpected, unintended offspring of some well-meaning alien who might have been traversing the universe, scoping out human chicks, leaving a repository of his DNA behind in me.
See, I told you, I'm weird. :)
It wasn't so bad when I was younger. Living with my grandparents, I didn't really have a preschool social circle. In fact, I really didn't have a lot of contact with kids my own age at all. It was okay,though... I had plenty of imaginary friends and playmates that knew me well, and loved me just as I was. I was perfectly and completely accepted by all my invisible playmates and the characters I met in the books that were my constant companions. William Shakespeare certainly understood, I always felt wonderfully at home in his company.
It wasn't so bad being different then.. it wasn't so bad, at all. Unfortunately, that false sense of security couldn't last forever.
It didn't take long for me to learn that being "different", being "weird", left me at the mercy of those who couldn't understand, who wouldn't understand, who didn't know, who couldn't imagine what the world was like out of their little sphere of experience. From the first day of kindergarten, I found myself somewhat of an outcast, isolated, and ignored by others who couldn't see beyond my "differences". I learned very quickly how much it could hurt to be "weird", to be laughed at, stared at,misunderstood, called names,and to feel so very,very alone.
And so began my lifelong quest for that elusive quality called normality.
Oh,I suppose I could have rebelled against the world, that I could have embraced and revelled in my weirdness,and could perhaps have become a Second Grade Bag Lady, but at the time, all I wanted was to be like the others, to have friends, to be accepted for myself.. so I did the only "rational" thing. In order to be accepted for myself, I tried to become someone else. I tried to hide my weirdness, to pretend that I was just like those around me.
I learned to isolate myself, to close myself off from others, to never let my real heart show, to wear a smile even when my heart was breaking, to never let anyone see the truth behind my mask.
I learned those lessons all too well, unfortunately.
For so many years now, I've felt almost like there were two Dees, the Dee that so many people see and are acquainted with..and the real Dee, that so few ever have known.
Oh,there were times, wonderful, rare times when those two worlds, those two Dees collided - times when I was on the stage at the little hometown theatre, times that I loved, and treasured, times when I really felt -alive-.. times when I was -free-, free to let go of all the fear, and not just be -me-, but to be the -me- I wanted to be at the time, to explore all the thoughts, feelings and emotions raging inside me - but those were altogether too few and too far apart.
After awhile, it just became natural to hide the real me away, to never let anyone see the weirdness in me. I've become an expert in letting people see only the parts of me that I want them to see, in letting people get close, but not so close that they can see what's really going on in my heart. Even those that think themselves closest to me might be surprised to learn that when the truth is told.. they might not know me as well as they think.
It worked great.
For awhile.
The problem is, I'm tired of it. I'm sick of wearing this mask.. of hiding behind this image of who I'm supposed to be in the eyes of others. I want to be -me-. Unfortunately, after spending so long trying to perfect that well-crafted image, it's hard to let go, to open yourself, to risk feeling that hurt again. In some ways, I find myself wondering who the real -me- is.. it seems like right now the evolutions and changes taking place in my heart and life are overwhelming. Who I used to be, who others think I am, and who I am are on a collision course, and when the smoke clears, I suppose I'll have to sort through all the debris to define myself again. I don't know how this is all going to end.. but I do know it has to end. I can't go on like this anymore, hiding within my own heart, a stranger in my own skin. I need to be me, the -real- me, the me God created me to be.. weirdness and all.
Last night, I re-discovered a video for a song that I've loved for many years now, Blind Melon's "No Rain." The story of the video revolves around a tap dancing little girl dressed in a yellow and black bee costume. Finding herself wounded by the laughter of those watching on as she does her dance, this little "Bee Girl" embarks on a journey, a search for a place where she can belong. Along the way, she encounters several people, finding none of a kindred spirit. Finally, after all her journeying, she finds herself in the promised land of a beautifully flowered field filled with -lots- of other "bee people".
As I watched the video, it dawned on me. I -am- the "Bee Girl". Like her, I was an outcast, a "stranger" among the "normal" people of my life- and like her, I've spent so many years on this incredible journey, trying to find a place where I fit in, a place where I can be the real "me".
I also realized that I can never find that place so long as I'm trying to deny that "weirdness" in me, to hide behind the mask.
So, get ready world! This life is about to change! It's time I let go, and embraced my inner "Bee Girl"...and that's just what I'm going to do! It won't be easy, I have a lot to overcome to find my way back to me.. but someday.. someday, I -will- be dancing in my field of flowers, and delighting in the company of other "bee people" just like me! :)
Feel free to join me , if you'd like! After all.. we bees have to stick together! :)
In the eyes of most, however, I'm sure they'd say that I'm just plain -weird-.
And they're probably right.
Ironically enough, I think I've always known that I wasn't like the proverbial "others". I distinctly remember wondering, even as a child, if I was adopted, or somehow, someway genetically altered to be different from those around me, those in my small-town hometown corner of the world. At one time, I even wondered if I was the unexpected, unintended offspring of some well-meaning alien who might have been traversing the universe, scoping out human chicks, leaving a repository of his DNA behind in me.
See, I told you, I'm weird. :)
It wasn't so bad when I was younger. Living with my grandparents, I didn't really have a preschool social circle. In fact, I really didn't have a lot of contact with kids my own age at all. It was okay,though... I had plenty of imaginary friends and playmates that knew me well, and loved me just as I was. I was perfectly and completely accepted by all my invisible playmates and the characters I met in the books that were my constant companions. William Shakespeare certainly understood, I always felt wonderfully at home in his company.
It wasn't so bad being different then.. it wasn't so bad, at all. Unfortunately, that false sense of security couldn't last forever.
It didn't take long for me to learn that being "different", being "weird", left me at the mercy of those who couldn't understand, who wouldn't understand, who didn't know, who couldn't imagine what the world was like out of their little sphere of experience. From the first day of kindergarten, I found myself somewhat of an outcast, isolated, and ignored by others who couldn't see beyond my "differences". I learned very quickly how much it could hurt to be "weird", to be laughed at, stared at,misunderstood, called names,and to feel so very,very alone.
And so began my lifelong quest for that elusive quality called normality.
Oh,I suppose I could have rebelled against the world, that I could have embraced and revelled in my weirdness,and could perhaps have become a Second Grade Bag Lady, but at the time, all I wanted was to be like the others, to have friends, to be accepted for myself.. so I did the only "rational" thing. In order to be accepted for myself, I tried to become someone else. I tried to hide my weirdness, to pretend that I was just like those around me.
I learned to isolate myself, to close myself off from others, to never let my real heart show, to wear a smile even when my heart was breaking, to never let anyone see the truth behind my mask.
I learned those lessons all too well, unfortunately.
For so many years now, I've felt almost like there were two Dees, the Dee that so many people see and are acquainted with..and the real Dee, that so few ever have known.
Oh,there were times, wonderful, rare times when those two worlds, those two Dees collided - times when I was on the stage at the little hometown theatre, times that I loved, and treasured, times when I really felt -alive-.. times when I was -free-, free to let go of all the fear, and not just be -me-, but to be the -me- I wanted to be at the time, to explore all the thoughts, feelings and emotions raging inside me - but those were altogether too few and too far apart.
After awhile, it just became natural to hide the real me away, to never let anyone see the weirdness in me. I've become an expert in letting people see only the parts of me that I want them to see, in letting people get close, but not so close that they can see what's really going on in my heart. Even those that think themselves closest to me might be surprised to learn that when the truth is told.. they might not know me as well as they think.
It worked great.
For awhile.
The problem is, I'm tired of it. I'm sick of wearing this mask.. of hiding behind this image of who I'm supposed to be in the eyes of others. I want to be -me-. Unfortunately, after spending so long trying to perfect that well-crafted image, it's hard to let go, to open yourself, to risk feeling that hurt again. In some ways, I find myself wondering who the real -me- is.. it seems like right now the evolutions and changes taking place in my heart and life are overwhelming. Who I used to be, who others think I am, and who I am are on a collision course, and when the smoke clears, I suppose I'll have to sort through all the debris to define myself again. I don't know how this is all going to end.. but I do know it has to end. I can't go on like this anymore, hiding within my own heart, a stranger in my own skin. I need to be me, the -real- me, the me God created me to be.. weirdness and all.
Last night, I re-discovered a video for a song that I've loved for many years now, Blind Melon's "No Rain." The story of the video revolves around a tap dancing little girl dressed in a yellow and black bee costume. Finding herself wounded by the laughter of those watching on as she does her dance, this little "Bee Girl" embarks on a journey, a search for a place where she can belong. Along the way, she encounters several people, finding none of a kindred spirit. Finally, after all her journeying, she finds herself in the promised land of a beautifully flowered field filled with -lots- of other "bee people".
As I watched the video, it dawned on me. I -am- the "Bee Girl". Like her, I was an outcast, a "stranger" among the "normal" people of my life- and like her, I've spent so many years on this incredible journey, trying to find a place where I fit in, a place where I can be the real "me".
I also realized that I can never find that place so long as I'm trying to deny that "weirdness" in me, to hide behind the mask.
So, get ready world! This life is about to change! It's time I let go, and embraced my inner "Bee Girl"...and that's just what I'm going to do! It won't be easy, I have a lot to overcome to find my way back to me.. but someday.. someday, I -will- be dancing in my field of flowers, and delighting in the company of other "bee people" just like me! :)
Feel free to join me , if you'd like! After all.. we bees have to stick together! :)
Thursday, July 1, 2010
On A Much Lighter Note..
I thought I'd share a little note I received from a friend today:
Aunt Mildred was a 93-year-old woman who was particularly despondent over the recent death of her husband. She decided that she would just kill herself and join him in death.
Thinking that it would be best to get it over with quickly, she took out his old Army pistol and made the decision to shoot herself in the heart, since it was badly broken in the first place.
Not wanting to miss the vital organ and become a vegetable and a burden to someone, she called her doctor's office to inquire as to just exactly where the heart would be on a woman. The doctor said, 'Your heart would be just below your left breast'.
Later that night........ Mildred was admitted to the hospital with a gunshot wound to her knee.
Gravity kills :) LOL :)
Aunt Mildred was a 93-year-old woman who was particularly despondent over the recent death of her husband. She decided that she would just kill herself and join him in death.
Thinking that it would be best to get it over with quickly, she took out his old Army pistol and made the decision to shoot herself in the heart, since it was badly broken in the first place.
Not wanting to miss the vital organ and become a vegetable and a burden to someone, she called her doctor's office to inquire as to just exactly where the heart would be on a woman. The doctor said, 'Your heart would be just below your left breast'.
Later that night........ Mildred was admitted to the hospital with a gunshot wound to her knee.
Gravity kills :) LOL :)
An Interesting Historical Perspective..
Here's an interesting historical tidbit, given the current situation involving the new Arizona Immigration Law. In the election of 1860, Abraham Lincoln, ran, and won, taking a dramatic stance against the anti-immigration platform of a break-away sect of the Republican party called the "Know-Nothings", a group which espoused principals very close to what the modern day TEA party embraces, by saying that he stood in opposition to "any change in our naturalization laws, or any state legislation by which the rights of citizens hitherto accorded to immigrants from foreign lands shall be abridged or impaired; and in favor of giving a full and efficient protection to the rights of all classes of citizens, whether native or naturalized, both at home and abroad."
By the way, Lincoln's opinion of the "Know-Nothings" wasn't very flattering.In an 1855 letter to his friend, John Speed, Lincoln said the following: " When the Know-Nothings get control, it [our Declaration of Independence] will read 'all men are created equal, except negroes and foreigners, and catholics[sic].' When it comes to this I should prefer emigrating to some country where they make no pretence of loving liberty - Russia, for instance, where despotism can be taken pure, and without the base alloy of hypocrisy." It makes one wonder what he'd think of the Sarah Palin's and other TEA Party figures of the day.
Definitely something to think about!
By the way, Lincoln's opinion of the "Know-Nothings" wasn't very flattering.In an 1855 letter to his friend, John Speed, Lincoln said the following: " When the Know-Nothings get control, it [our Declaration of Independence] will read 'all men are created equal, except negroes and foreigners, and catholics[sic].' When it comes to this I should prefer emigrating to some country where they make no pretence of loving liberty - Russia, for instance, where despotism can be taken pure, and without the base alloy of hypocrisy." It makes one wonder what he'd think of the Sarah Palin's and other TEA Party figures of the day.
Definitely something to think about!
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Dear Mom...
I suppose some would consider this somewhat of a study in futility, writing you this way. After all.. you'll never read these words, and even if you did, I doubt they'd make any difference in your heart, your thoughts or your world.
It's time for me to close this chapter in my life, though, Mom, and in order to do what I need to do for me to move on, and find the fullness in my life that I need, in order for me to become everything that I need to be, to be the woman that God wants me to be, I need to say "Goodbye". The word closure almost sounds cliche in this day and age, everyone seems to want to find theirs.. but I suppose that's what this note is all about. Closure - and my perhaps selfish need for it, so that I can go on. It doesn't matter if you don't read this, understand my feelings, or even care that I have them. The truth of the matter is that I suppose I'm -really- writing this for an audience of 2 anyway - myself, and God.
The decision to finally let go hasn't been an easy one for me. It's almost like an admission that everything I've always thought about love, and family has been nothing but a fantasy, a dream. In some ways, it would be easier if that were the case, but I know it's not- I see other people all the time who have the relationship with their Mom that I wish I could have had with you. It's taken me a long time, most of my life really, to realize that it's not that my expectations were unrealistic, or that there was anything wrong with -me- that kept me from being able to connect with you as I'd have liked to connect with you. The cold reality of it all is simply that you were never ready nor could you ever really accept my love, not of any failing of my own, but because of the open wounds and emptiness that fills your soul.
Sometimes I wonder, about that, you know, about that emptiness inside you. You and I were effectively raised by the same parents, and in almost the same environment and yet, we see the world so differently. What happened in your life to make you so bitter? So angry? So unable to love? So locked inside your pain that you can't even accept love from your oldest child?
Whatever happened, I'm sorry that it did.. maybe both of our lives would have been different if it hadn't. Whatever it was, I hope someday that you can let go of it - not for my sake, because I think the time when that could have benefited me is long past, not even for the sake of those you -have- allowed into your life, like Kena, Ashley and Collin - but for -your- own sake. Bitterness, hatred and anger only eat you up from the inside out. As horrible as it may sound to admit, sometimes I wonder if the cancer that's now erupting from your insides out isn't just that negativity you hold inside you making it's way to the surface.
Sometimes , I think it might help me if I could just -understand-.. but in all truthfulness, I know it probably wouldn't.
In some ways, I'm glad that things happened as they did. In some ways, I think I owe you a debt of gratitude - you leaving me with Nan and Grandad was the best possible thing you could ever have done for me. They were the most wonderful family and parents anyone could ever have hoped to have. Anything good in me is because of them, especially Grandad. They made sure I was cared for, that I had everything that I needed, physically, emotionally and spiritually. They gave me all the love in their hearts. I was their daughter, just as much as you were. They were actually probably more sacrificial than most parents in a lot of ways, since they were older, and didn't -have- to take me in. They could have turned me away, and had a real adult-life, free of kids, but they didn't - they loved me when you couldn't.
I should also thank you for choosing my dad, although in some ways, I wish you hadn't, because I know the damage you've done to his life. He's a wonderful man, Mom, loving, caring, and very smart and wise. He's been an amazing father, and I'm grateful for his presence in my life. He taught me a great deal about reason, and logic...and he took the time to tell me what I know you couldn't, that he loved me, and wanted me, but felt like it was best to leave me with my grandparents, because you could never have been a good mother. He gave me a family, even though it meant that he gave up a part of his. It wasn't fair to either he or I that he had to, but his choice to leave me with Nan and Grandad was probably the purest act of love that any parent could offer. He still was with me, he stayed a part of my life..and for that I will always be grateful.
There was still an empty spot in my heart, though.. an empty spot that wanted you, an empty spot that left me wondering, even as a child, what it was about me that was so bad, so unloveable that even my own mother couldn't love me. It hurt,it hurt so badly! When you told me that if abortion had been legal, I wouldn't have been here, well.. I can't even put into words how that made me feel. I was only 7, I didn't even know what that word meant at the time, but I was smart enough to be curious. I looked it up in the dictionary. I knew exactly what you were saying to me. Sometimes I wonder if you knew I would, if there was that much cruelty lingering inside you. Even though I realize now that you were driven by the hurt , anger, and guilt of you getting caught cheating on my dad, those words still left an open wound in my soul, an open wound that has only begun to heal these past few years as I've grown.
I tried hard, Mom, I really did. I was the straight A student, the perenially "good" kid, the child that most parents would have been proud of.. and I think, to some extent, I did at least part of it to try to "earn" your love. Obviously, I failed miserably at -that-, but, honestly, I don't regret having done it. It helped me become the person I am today.
Sometimes I wonder why you've always been able to love Kena. Honestly, I don't think I'll ever understand that.. I once talked to Dad about it, and he didn't understand it either. I used to envy her sometimes, because you loved her so much, and not me. In looking at her life, and the person she's become as an adult, though, I don't feel that way anymore. I'm much happier having my soul intact, thank you very much.
There are a few things you've done that I'm finding harder to forgive than others. I'm working on it, selfishly, not for your sake, but mine, because I -don't- want the bitterness to eat me alive, as it has eaten you - but these few things are harder for me to forgive. I'll never forget the way you treated Grandad, the way you disrespected him, even in his death. I was in South Carolina, a 5 hour drive away from home, the day he died..you were less than 20 minutes away..and yet, he died alone, because you and Kena couldn't be bothered to go check on him. At his wake, you and she walked away.. you couldn't even be bothered to stand there, and honor him one last time by greeting those who came to pay their respects. You stood there, as he lay there in his final rest, and cursed him and said how much you hated him.. then, simply walked away, and sat on the front porch of the funeral home and smoked your cigarettes, and talked to those you deemed worthy of your attentions. You got angry when those who had come to say goodbye for that last time didn't pay as much attention to you as you thought they should, despite the fact that you didn't make yourself available for them to express their condolences. You yelled at me, because they -did- talk to me, hug me, and stand with me when I cried. When the final moments of that night came, you walked away, and never looked back. You turned his funeral into your own little "show", pulling stunts like leaving his half-sister out of the arrangements, and not including her in the family.. stunts that I had to do my best to correct. It was never about Grandad to you.. you said it yourself, you thought his funeral should be for -you-, and seeing your own selfish needs promoted. Grandad deserved so much better than that.. I was there all those times when he gave you money, when he helped you when you had no where else to turn.. He loved you, and you repaid him with nothing but greed, and arrogance, and hatred. Did you know he prayed for you, Mom? He loved you so much, even after you'd hurt him so many times... he and Uncle Ken used to meet at lunch, or breakfast, and they'd pray together, for -you-, that you would find happiness in your life, and that you'd grow close to God, and find the peace that you always seem to be looking for in all the wrong places. When I was little,and so angry at you for the way you treated me, it was Grandad who would hold me when I cried, and tell me that I should respect you as my mother.. because no matter what, you were my Mom.. and yet, when he died, you couldn't show him even the most basic respect! You certainly couldn't wait to get your hands on his possessions though, could you? You're living in his house now.. and instead of gratitude.. you still curse his name. All I have left of the only Father I ever knew are the pictures, the memories,a few little sentimental things that he wanted me to have.. and the tears that come almost every day because I miss him so. And honestly, that's enough for me, because I was so blessed just to have him in my life, and I know that his love is still with me.. and that because he taught me to love the Lord, I have a hope that you don't. Because of Jesus, my eternity is secure.. and someday, someday, I will see Grandaddy again. You walked in and took everything, all the possessions that he'd worked so hard for in his life, and still, you have nothing, because your heart is so filled with hatred for him, and your own greed. A part of me pities you.. another part of me finds it very hard for me not to hate you for the way you've treated him.
I may not have lived with you as I was growing up, but I wasn't so far away that I didn't see what you did to Patrick. I hated the way you treated him, the way you took your anger toward Dad and your relationship with him. You may not have abused him with your fists, but you abused him...and it's at least partially your fault that now, as an adult, he's really not capable of making attachments to others, that he's never had any sort of relationships in his life..and that his life is what it is. I get so angry at you when you talk badly about him, I just want to scream, and tell you to shut up! You robbed him of his childhood, of his security, of the life he should have had..and you robbed me of the brother that I love so much, and would love to share my life more with today.
Most of all, Mom...I hate the way you treat my children. You once told Grandad that you had only one daughter, Kena, and only one grandchild, Ashley and later, when Collin was born, you accepted him. Dad once told me that he'd walked into Ashley's room, and taken note of the huge pile of toys and clothes that you'd given her- and realized that you had never done anything for any of my kids, and he didn't know why there was always such a difference made. You were never there for any of my kids, Mom, you never gave them all the love, and attention that a grandmother is supposed to give them. You've always treated them like second class citizens..even when they've accomplished something great, you've never even been able to even offer them your congratulations: You just blow them off, and focus on any achievements Ashley and Collin may have had. Please don't misunderstand me.. Ashley and Collin are great kids, I love them very much, and they deserve to be loved and praised...but so do Kevin, Chrissy, Zach and Aric! One of the hardest things I've had to deal with though- now that my kids are older, they see the way you treat them. How do I explain it to them, Mom? How can I explain to them that their Grandmother just has issues? I try, I try so hard to do just that.. to tell them that it's not them, that it's not their fault. I make excuses, I tell them that it's just that we've always lived away from you.. but I know it's not true, and so do they. Now that they're older, they've come to just expect nothing from you, to recognize that that's just how you are.. but I worry so much that somewhere in their subconscious, somewhere in their heart, they feel that same rejection, and self-doubt that I did, because of you. I don't care how you feel or don't feel about me, they deserve -better- than that! Honestly, though, I can't hate you for it. In a way, I pity you. It really -is- your loss, you really are missing out. They're -amazing- , wonderful kids, with so much love to offer. It's sad that you'll never really get the chance to experience that, because you've chosen to not embrace them.
It's hard to forgive you for so many things, Mom.. but with God's help, that's just what I'm going to do. I'm going to forgive you..
...and I'm going to let go.
I've done everything I could to rebuild the relationship between us, but the reality is, nothing I could do would ever make any difference until you're ready to accept it.So, Mom - this is goodbye. This is my closure. I will always love you, and wish you well, but I will no longer let myself be held back by the insecurity, the pain, the regret. It's time for me to move on,and embrace my life, the many blessings that God's given me, and that's just what I plan on doing.
Thank you for everything, the good and the bad, because all of it has helped me to become the woman I am..and I am stronger for it. I will continue to pray for you, and hope that you will find peace.
Your daughter,
D.
It's time for me to close this chapter in my life, though, Mom, and in order to do what I need to do for me to move on, and find the fullness in my life that I need, in order for me to become everything that I need to be, to be the woman that God wants me to be, I need to say "Goodbye". The word closure almost sounds cliche in this day and age, everyone seems to want to find theirs.. but I suppose that's what this note is all about. Closure - and my perhaps selfish need for it, so that I can go on. It doesn't matter if you don't read this, understand my feelings, or even care that I have them. The truth of the matter is that I suppose I'm -really- writing this for an audience of 2 anyway - myself, and God.
The decision to finally let go hasn't been an easy one for me. It's almost like an admission that everything I've always thought about love, and family has been nothing but a fantasy, a dream. In some ways, it would be easier if that were the case, but I know it's not- I see other people all the time who have the relationship with their Mom that I wish I could have had with you. It's taken me a long time, most of my life really, to realize that it's not that my expectations were unrealistic, or that there was anything wrong with -me- that kept me from being able to connect with you as I'd have liked to connect with you. The cold reality of it all is simply that you were never ready nor could you ever really accept my love, not of any failing of my own, but because of the open wounds and emptiness that fills your soul.
Sometimes I wonder, about that, you know, about that emptiness inside you. You and I were effectively raised by the same parents, and in almost the same environment and yet, we see the world so differently. What happened in your life to make you so bitter? So angry? So unable to love? So locked inside your pain that you can't even accept love from your oldest child?
Whatever happened, I'm sorry that it did.. maybe both of our lives would have been different if it hadn't. Whatever it was, I hope someday that you can let go of it - not for my sake, because I think the time when that could have benefited me is long past, not even for the sake of those you -have- allowed into your life, like Kena, Ashley and Collin - but for -your- own sake. Bitterness, hatred and anger only eat you up from the inside out. As horrible as it may sound to admit, sometimes I wonder if the cancer that's now erupting from your insides out isn't just that negativity you hold inside you making it's way to the surface.
Sometimes , I think it might help me if I could just -understand-.. but in all truthfulness, I know it probably wouldn't.
In some ways, I'm glad that things happened as they did. In some ways, I think I owe you a debt of gratitude - you leaving me with Nan and Grandad was the best possible thing you could ever have done for me. They were the most wonderful family and parents anyone could ever have hoped to have. Anything good in me is because of them, especially Grandad. They made sure I was cared for, that I had everything that I needed, physically, emotionally and spiritually. They gave me all the love in their hearts. I was their daughter, just as much as you were. They were actually probably more sacrificial than most parents in a lot of ways, since they were older, and didn't -have- to take me in. They could have turned me away, and had a real adult-life, free of kids, but they didn't - they loved me when you couldn't.
I should also thank you for choosing my dad, although in some ways, I wish you hadn't, because I know the damage you've done to his life. He's a wonderful man, Mom, loving, caring, and very smart and wise. He's been an amazing father, and I'm grateful for his presence in my life. He taught me a great deal about reason, and logic...and he took the time to tell me what I know you couldn't, that he loved me, and wanted me, but felt like it was best to leave me with my grandparents, because you could never have been a good mother. He gave me a family, even though it meant that he gave up a part of his. It wasn't fair to either he or I that he had to, but his choice to leave me with Nan and Grandad was probably the purest act of love that any parent could offer. He still was with me, he stayed a part of my life..and for that I will always be grateful.
There was still an empty spot in my heart, though.. an empty spot that wanted you, an empty spot that left me wondering, even as a child, what it was about me that was so bad, so unloveable that even my own mother couldn't love me. It hurt,it hurt so badly! When you told me that if abortion had been legal, I wouldn't have been here, well.. I can't even put into words how that made me feel. I was only 7, I didn't even know what that word meant at the time, but I was smart enough to be curious. I looked it up in the dictionary. I knew exactly what you were saying to me. Sometimes I wonder if you knew I would, if there was that much cruelty lingering inside you. Even though I realize now that you were driven by the hurt , anger, and guilt of you getting caught cheating on my dad, those words still left an open wound in my soul, an open wound that has only begun to heal these past few years as I've grown.
I tried hard, Mom, I really did. I was the straight A student, the perenially "good" kid, the child that most parents would have been proud of.. and I think, to some extent, I did at least part of it to try to "earn" your love. Obviously, I failed miserably at -that-, but, honestly, I don't regret having done it. It helped me become the person I am today.
Sometimes I wonder why you've always been able to love Kena. Honestly, I don't think I'll ever understand that.. I once talked to Dad about it, and he didn't understand it either. I used to envy her sometimes, because you loved her so much, and not me. In looking at her life, and the person she's become as an adult, though, I don't feel that way anymore. I'm much happier having my soul intact, thank you very much.
There are a few things you've done that I'm finding harder to forgive than others. I'm working on it, selfishly, not for your sake, but mine, because I -don't- want the bitterness to eat me alive, as it has eaten you - but these few things are harder for me to forgive. I'll never forget the way you treated Grandad, the way you disrespected him, even in his death. I was in South Carolina, a 5 hour drive away from home, the day he died..you were less than 20 minutes away..and yet, he died alone, because you and Kena couldn't be bothered to go check on him. At his wake, you and she walked away.. you couldn't even be bothered to stand there, and honor him one last time by greeting those who came to pay their respects. You stood there, as he lay there in his final rest, and cursed him and said how much you hated him.. then, simply walked away, and sat on the front porch of the funeral home and smoked your cigarettes, and talked to those you deemed worthy of your attentions. You got angry when those who had come to say goodbye for that last time didn't pay as much attention to you as you thought they should, despite the fact that you didn't make yourself available for them to express their condolences. You yelled at me, because they -did- talk to me, hug me, and stand with me when I cried. When the final moments of that night came, you walked away, and never looked back. You turned his funeral into your own little "show", pulling stunts like leaving his half-sister out of the arrangements, and not including her in the family.. stunts that I had to do my best to correct. It was never about Grandad to you.. you said it yourself, you thought his funeral should be for -you-, and seeing your own selfish needs promoted. Grandad deserved so much better than that.. I was there all those times when he gave you money, when he helped you when you had no where else to turn.. He loved you, and you repaid him with nothing but greed, and arrogance, and hatred. Did you know he prayed for you, Mom? He loved you so much, even after you'd hurt him so many times... he and Uncle Ken used to meet at lunch, or breakfast, and they'd pray together, for -you-, that you would find happiness in your life, and that you'd grow close to God, and find the peace that you always seem to be looking for in all the wrong places. When I was little,and so angry at you for the way you treated me, it was Grandad who would hold me when I cried, and tell me that I should respect you as my mother.. because no matter what, you were my Mom.. and yet, when he died, you couldn't show him even the most basic respect! You certainly couldn't wait to get your hands on his possessions though, could you? You're living in his house now.. and instead of gratitude.. you still curse his name. All I have left of the only Father I ever knew are the pictures, the memories,a few little sentimental things that he wanted me to have.. and the tears that come almost every day because I miss him so. And honestly, that's enough for me, because I was so blessed just to have him in my life, and I know that his love is still with me.. and that because he taught me to love the Lord, I have a hope that you don't. Because of Jesus, my eternity is secure.. and someday, someday, I will see Grandaddy again. You walked in and took everything, all the possessions that he'd worked so hard for in his life, and still, you have nothing, because your heart is so filled with hatred for him, and your own greed. A part of me pities you.. another part of me finds it very hard for me not to hate you for the way you've treated him.
I may not have lived with you as I was growing up, but I wasn't so far away that I didn't see what you did to Patrick. I hated the way you treated him, the way you took your anger toward Dad and your relationship with him. You may not have abused him with your fists, but you abused him...and it's at least partially your fault that now, as an adult, he's really not capable of making attachments to others, that he's never had any sort of relationships in his life..and that his life is what it is. I get so angry at you when you talk badly about him, I just want to scream, and tell you to shut up! You robbed him of his childhood, of his security, of the life he should have had..and you robbed me of the brother that I love so much, and would love to share my life more with today.
Most of all, Mom...I hate the way you treat my children. You once told Grandad that you had only one daughter, Kena, and only one grandchild, Ashley and later, when Collin was born, you accepted him. Dad once told me that he'd walked into Ashley's room, and taken note of the huge pile of toys and clothes that you'd given her- and realized that you had never done anything for any of my kids, and he didn't know why there was always such a difference made. You were never there for any of my kids, Mom, you never gave them all the love, and attention that a grandmother is supposed to give them. You've always treated them like second class citizens..even when they've accomplished something great, you've never even been able to even offer them your congratulations: You just blow them off, and focus on any achievements Ashley and Collin may have had. Please don't misunderstand me.. Ashley and Collin are great kids, I love them very much, and they deserve to be loved and praised...but so do Kevin, Chrissy, Zach and Aric! One of the hardest things I've had to deal with though- now that my kids are older, they see the way you treat them. How do I explain it to them, Mom? How can I explain to them that their Grandmother just has issues? I try, I try so hard to do just that.. to tell them that it's not them, that it's not their fault. I make excuses, I tell them that it's just that we've always lived away from you.. but I know it's not true, and so do they. Now that they're older, they've come to just expect nothing from you, to recognize that that's just how you are.. but I worry so much that somewhere in their subconscious, somewhere in their heart, they feel that same rejection, and self-doubt that I did, because of you. I don't care how you feel or don't feel about me, they deserve -better- than that! Honestly, though, I can't hate you for it. In a way, I pity you. It really -is- your loss, you really are missing out. They're -amazing- , wonderful kids, with so much love to offer. It's sad that you'll never really get the chance to experience that, because you've chosen to not embrace them.
It's hard to forgive you for so many things, Mom.. but with God's help, that's just what I'm going to do. I'm going to forgive you..
...and I'm going to let go.
I've done everything I could to rebuild the relationship between us, but the reality is, nothing I could do would ever make any difference until you're ready to accept it.So, Mom - this is goodbye. This is my closure. I will always love you, and wish you well, but I will no longer let myself be held back by the insecurity, the pain, the regret. It's time for me to move on,and embrace my life, the many blessings that God's given me, and that's just what I plan on doing.
Thank you for everything, the good and the bad, because all of it has helped me to become the woman I am..and I am stronger for it. I will continue to pray for you, and hope that you will find peace.
Your daughter,
D.
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