Keep the false alive

I think there is a period of time, later, that you start fighting with yourself. I am starting to feel like I just can't do what I used to do, I don't have the energy. But I want to look like I used to. And I sort df do look like I used to. But I want to keep the falsity alive. Sure I am young... Just look at me. I am someone that other people want to be "when they get to be my Age".

mothers day

What I learned from my mother:

• always be embarrassed
• never speak your mind
• don't wear that
• never talk about family history and the embarrassing stuff that happened
• hold every thing in until you explode or cry

Mom is a wonderful gentle person who would do anything for anyone.  But that is one of the reasons that she did not get involved or close to people.  She couldn't not be helpful of do things for them if she knew them.  however she always complained about being helpful and about those who she helped.  She talked about the person who was seeking her help or confidence, and not nicely.  she acted as though it was an affront, a complete horrible thing that she knew these terrible secrets.  It also bolstered the need for her to show how perfect we were by comparing us and her family to them - their terrible secrets vs. look at our ideal life.  

Meanwhile, the boy bullied the girl.  The girl grew inward.  the boy was a jackass, the girl became a bitch.  the dad buried himself in work. the mom grew large and stagnant.  and no one got deep anywhere.  The jackass found religion and decided there was no reason for him to apologize for anything because god accepted him.  

And life goes on.  until we are smack in the middle of it and we start wondering what all this led up to.

new, old...

I went from young to old.  I don't know why I never hit the mid-life stage?  I hung on forever I guess to the feeling that I was young... maybe afraid to get older...  then life slams you with a need for reflection and growing up and in order to keep going you keep breathing in... it feels like you never exhale.

I have finally exhaled...  and what I see is an old me.  I haven't grown gracefully, I feel.  I metaphorically have shaken off my covers - whatever was shrouding me in a careful cocoon and what I see of myself is an old, bit broken down, heavier, less tolerant and less happy self.  what do I do to fix this?

The exhaling is scary.  I think I knew what I was facing.

waiting

these days it feels like life is a waiting game.  or maybe it has always felt like a waiting game,  What I have yet to figure out is what I am waiting for.  I guess I thought at some point it would feel like i 'got there'.  but where is that?  is it a state of mind///?  I think so.  but I have no idea how to find that.  I used to think it would come to me, but I guess not.

I lost myself somewhere. Is it while I put myself away so I could put all my energy on being there for her? WaS itjust the ultimate in ignoring myself, and then when it was over I can't go back to other distractions? Nothing else distracts enough! Since the ultimate 'something else'.

there was a time when I was young that ... now wait - I have just completely forgotten what I was starting to write. wow. ok. Swiss cheese.

I don't really think that I lost myself in the time that Melissa was sick. she didn't make me who I am ... I think I am always looking. It seems like somewhere inside of me i know that there is a center... a place of comfort and knowing,,, a sense that I have finally reached 'the place'. I guess what I don't know is the path. Is it here? could it be here now, who I am now, or could it be outside of this world? I sometimes think that I couldn't have it better in many ways, usually when I am really thinking of myself and where I have ended up, internally. I know I have further to go but for the most part, it is all good. I think if we let ourselves enjoy, we will. but it is hard to get through the weeds...

I took gus to a communicator. part of me feels 'embarrassed?' to admit that I believe her and that she really communicated with him. that embarrassment is my shield, I guess. shields, justifications; everything is a way to keep us from truly letting go. How do we get there? and who is the we I am talking about. I should just talk about me.

Animals don't have the blocks that we put up, so it is easier to connect. that is what she said, anyway. honestly, while she was talking to him he lifted his head and stared at me like he was trying to talk to me. he has never stared at me like that. maybe I should take her workshop.

mushroom soup

who would have thought that I would end up here.  I think too much about how do I make my daughters life good for her.  I wonder why I have so little memory of times from my past...  is it because of how I abused my brain for so many years?  did that do it?  Have I blocked it out?  Is it really in there somewhere?  

little things will remind me. A post the other day where a friend was making Melissa's mushroom soup. possibly the best mushroom soup recipe I have ever gotten... a little truffle oil on top and it is the most perfect dish. I loved doing dinner with Melissa, it spurred me on to do something good myself, and to be adventurous. I want to find that again, perhaps within myself. I am not fearful with food, but as with a lot of things... I need a push. sigh.

Parents

My parents are still alive.  I live not far from them, and see them quite frequently.  My dad is 85 and I have seen him age a lot in the past 5 years or so.  My mom is 74 and still doing fairly well.  I have often thought about the 'what if', and I know it would be very hard.  I also believe that my brother would not be here for me or share in or understand my sadness.  When my best friend died I heard nothing from him.  It amazes me sometimes the closeness that exists between my husband and his brother.

That being said - I know he loves our parents.  I also know that my parents had somewhat traumatic lives (as many did in that era, I believe.  An era of 'don't talk about it' and hiding 'embarrassments') growing up and in the light of this, they have done pretty darn good. but not perfect, and wrapped in 'can't's, and shouldn'ts. They had to take a generation to clean up the mess from the past - of course - there are other ways to do it. like talking about it and letting it go, but that is the hard scary way. better to have kids to carry on and do the growth for you. you have a 50% chance with two kids as my family has shown, at least I think. Unfortunately, if it is a numbers game, even though I get the winning brain, I only had one kid so my brother's 3 kids with the screwy religious upbringing trumps my one extra special kid. But I think she will go on to be happy and smart. That is my plan. Smart meaning using that exceptional brain of hers to do good and spread good.

 But those parents of mine, I need to be a mindreader. they never really have shown themselves to be loving parents in the way that I hope I am with my daughter.  I see Laya and the amazing people surrounding her and holding her up in all this trauma, and I think how lucky she is.  I can only hope that going forward I have broken the spell of old, and our family can grow and love and give the way a family should.  I hope Maddy has lots of kids, and she is able to love them fully without questioning herself the way I have, silently.   

... 'will they be sad like this for me?' and 'will they do this for me" - what a musing.  to not know is hard - I would feel the same way about my brother.  I don't want to judge or make guesses about other family relationship,  I love him because he is my brother.  But I am not so confident that he would say that about me.   Iknow he is aware that I am his sister...  but I don't think he thinks about me much.

knock knock

I never thought I would be here.  I tell my daughter that life is a beautiful thing,  but part of that is going forward with a plan, and working it to be in your favor every step of the way.  I talk like it is a book -- not an everyday time.  Her day is school, afterschool, homework, play rehearsal, trying to get in some tv time, dinner, avoiding going to bed, crashing asleep, and then it gets to start all over again. she looks for little lights  .. little excitements shining in front of her.  I try to throw them out there - I feel like my biggest job is to make sure her life is as good as it can be.  She is a great girl, she fills my heart.

It is hard to do this in the light of the big hammer that comes down every once in awhile.  And sometimes I am just trying to keep my head above water.

I know that my job was to make sure that she got what she deserved, that she was properly put on a pedestal and that all those who loved her were able to come and show that.  But then what about me...  I need to allow myself to take some solace in the fact that I know she appreciated it.  Sometimes I think I am here to effect others lives more than have my own life effected.