I am in Ohio this weekend to visit my family. I have seen them all except for my mother who still refuses to speak to me. She also still refuses to speak to my aunt simply because my aunt still insists on being in my life. All of my family, in fact, insists on continuing a relationship with me. I don't deserve them but they do see that I have changed and am trying to make ammends with them.
I spoke in length to my daughter last night. She is 22 years old and I have not been in her life for some years. Some of these years were because of extenuating circumstances that were not entirely my fault. I had obstacles in my way but I know that they were obstacles that I could have overcome had I invested the time and energy. I gave up. No excuses! I just simply lost the will to fight. Yet my children should have been the one thing that I should never stop fighting for. No matter my faults and flaws, they love me still. I know that they love me because I love them so fiercely.
I have made it a point in my life to never speak ill of their father. He may have been a lousy husband but he has always been the best father that he could be. I know this because my children have grown to be the wonderful people they are today. I did, however, decide to relate a small portion of my experience of being married to their father last night when I spoke candidly to my daughter. I prefaced the conversation by telling her that what I was about to say was not meant to change her feelings toward her father. I only wanted for her to realize the pain that he caused me without sharing every hurtful moment of our marriage. She cried because she felt empathy for me. I cried because she felt empathy for me. I did not use these events to make excuses for my choices. I used these events so that she would understand my decisions in life. My decisions may have been wrong but at the time I felt that I did the best for my children. I also told her that some of my decisions were based on pure selfishness on my part.
I truly believe that my honesty has increased my newfound relationship with my children. They may not agree with my decisions, as I have not agreed with all of my decisions, but they respect the fact that I am honest and not making excuses for my behaviors. I hope that they have learned that making mistakes is part of life but admitting them and learning to grow from them is what makes a person respectable. I still make a lot of mistakes but I am learning and growing. My children understand that and it makes me feel joy that I had not felt in a very long time. Finally we are able to share our lives, our laughter and our love in spite of our decisions.
No Excuses!
Sugar, Sex, Magic
I am unable to partake in many guilty pleasures that I once loved. While most of these pleasures I have forsaken are well worth the sacrifice, I miss them none the less. I can go without the cake, ice cream, candy, doughnuts and chocolate. I have lost 70 pounds by sacrificing these goodies that once were my comfort foods. From time to time I do have a craving for the objects of my affection. The one thing I am really missing is sex.
Since I do not have a significant other at the moment I am seriously deprived. I believe that I am a relatively attractive mature woman and I do not doubt that I could find a man that would happily fulfill my desires. Since my slutty slut days are long over, however, I believe that I should at least wait until I have dated a man a few times before rolling in the sheets with him. The part I dread is the dating. I don’t relish the idea of enduring small talk, sharing stories and getting to know each other just to discover that we have absolutely nothing in common. I am not looking forward to shaving my legs every day (or week for that matter), spending an hour in the bathroom mirror or wearing something other than my granny panties (I prefer comfort over sexiness and I am quite fond of my cotton briefs). I am also not looking for a relationship at this particular moment. Quite frankly, it is just too much work. I am not enthused about expending that much energy on the pre-game when I really want to hit a home run and enjoy the seventh inning stretch.
Since I am unable to revert back to my wild days, I guess I am going to muster enough strength to find my keys, hop in my car and drive to the local 7-11. I hope that they have the super, duper economy pack of batteries. It may just be an all-nighter!
Mother's Day
Mother’s Day is tomorrow and I have many mixed emotions about motherhood. Honestly, I doubt that I would ever be nominated for Mother of the Year. I have made so many mistakes when it comes to parenting. Some decisions I made because I truly believed that I was doing the best by my two children. Some decisions I made out of sheer selfishness. I basically abandoned my children when they were still young. I always loved them more than my own life but I was too obsessed with my own misery. I blamed my own childhood for many of my mistakes, but finally came to realize that I am the only person responsible for my mistakes. Believe it or not, my only great desire in my life was to have a family. A normal, happy family; one that I felt I had been deprived. Unfortunately I ended up making the same mistakes that my own mother made with me. The biggest difference is that I love my children and will do anything to rectify my mistakes. One mistake that I vow to never make is to be unforgiving of my children. There has never been, and never will be, anything that I would hold against my children. I love, and will continue to love, my daughter and son unconditionally. I wish that my own mother would offer me the same.
I still struggle to accept the fact that my mother does not love me nor will she ever love me unconditionally. I just cannot wrap my brain around this concept. I always thought that a mother would automatically love her child. I have searched my soul to understand what I have done to make her not love me. I have felt worthless and unlovable. I have cried countless tears. I have endured dysfunctional relationships just so that someone would love me.
Today I vow to love myself and realize that if someone does not love me then that is their shortcoming and not mine. I vow to never allow another person to make me feel any less than I truly am. I truly am human and I make mistakes but that does not make me unlovable. Today, at this moment, I promise to live my life, laugh as often as possible and love myself!
Destination Happiness
I was wondering today about the exact moment I fell out of love with him. Then I thought about that saying, “fell out of love.” It isn’t really like falling. Falling implies a fast movement when it is actually a slow, agonizing process. I think it is more like being hit by a bus. It hurts like hell but then you get up and cross that street again. The next time you have to cross that street you look both ways, always aware and cautious of your surroundings. But one day you get lazy and the bus hits you again. It hurts like hell, it takes a little longer to get back up, but you do. The next day you decide to take another route, hoping that the bus won’t be on that street. For days, weeks, maybe even months the bus is nowhere in sight. Then all of a sudden, “Bam!” it hits you. Funny, though, it doesn’t hurt as much as it once did. You get up, shake yourself off and keep walking; walking like your feet are covered in molasses. Finally you stand in front of the bus, daring it to hit you, just so you can kill the love that hurts so badly. I have been standing in the middle of the road for quite a while now waiting to be hit by that damn bus. That is until I realized that I could get on the bus, get the hell out of town and move forward with my life. I just hope it is not the short bus!!
I'm Coming Home...
I write a lot about my past in this blog, probably because I am trying to relive happier times for me or maybe to gain some introspect for my current situations. Either way I know that I am not really in a happy place right now. I miss my family fiercely. I long to be closer to them. I believe that being near them will bring me back to my happy place. I don’t think that I will be running from my problems; simply running towards the people able to support me emotionally. I have never allowed my family to know the true me. I am not sure the reason for this. But now I want them to know me, love me and be with me.
For me it has always been about wanting a man in my life; someone to love me and support me. Unfortunately I have not chosen the kind of man that is able to do this and I don’t blame them. I need to love and support me before I am able to choose a man that is capable of doing the same. I need to love and support my family before I can be truly happy. So, family, if you are reading this, and I know you are, I am coming home. Not just to you. But to me!
Dream Analysis
When I was about four or five years old, at the most, I had a nightmare that has been embedded in my mind for my entire life. I always wondered if there was any meaning to it. It must have some meaning rooted in a deep seeded fear. I have analyzed every moment of it from time to time all of my life. I have not decided exactly what it means.
I was playing with a tube of lipstick and my mom warned me not to make a mess with it. I am sure she thought that I would try to apply the ruby red lipstick on my lips. I, on the other hand, began rubbing it along her carpeting. As I rubbed it harder and harder the tube ignited and fire shot across the room and down the shared hallway of her apartment building. When the blaze burned out my Nanny lay helpless at the far end. Two paramedics were raking up blackened leaves while they shook their heads from side to side. I ran to my Nanny as she lay on a gurney. In a weak, almost inaudible voice she repeated a solitary word. “Why?” Paralyzed by fear, I could only look sadly into her eyes. I had no explanation for hurting her so.
I have concocted a couple of theories regarding the meaning of the dream. Maybe I had, or would, hurt her beyond any imagination. Perhaps I would disappoint her so that she would be heartbroken. I suppose I did break her heart many times during her lifetime. But the way I imagined she would be the most heartbroken was if she knew how I longed to be with my mom. I loved my Nanny deeply but my deepest desire was to live with my mom. In my imagination the fire emanating from my tube of lipstick was my burning desire to be with my mom. The blackened leaves represented the ashes of my Nanny’s broken heart. I wonder if, when I did leave her home to live with my mom, she was as devastated as she was in my dream. I hope that she knew I loved her deeply and that she forgave me for my perceived betrayal.
Laugh in the Face of Despair
When I was a young girl her illness was quickly escalating. I remember her walking with great effort, using a cane to aid her, using a walker to get around, confined to a wheelchair and finally completely bedridden. Through all of the indignities, my Nanny always had a smile spread across her sweet face. One of my favorite stories she told was when she was working one day and had to leave early. When I asked her the reason she responded, with a hearty giggle, that she has shit herself. She said that it had oozed down her leg to rest in her pantyhose just above her ankle. Then she broke out in laughter just remembering the event. Now, if this had happened to me, I would never have been able to return to my job.
One time we had finished running errands in our town and were returning to her car. She stopped about fifty feet from the car, unable to go any further. She held on to a phone pole and announced that she was about to go down. She slithered down the pole while she exclaimed that she felt just like a wet noodle. She did show some signs of embarrassment when I suggested that I ask our dentist, who had an office one hundred yards from our location, for his assistance. She obviously did not want him to see her in distress; this from a woman who wasn’t embarrassed about messing in her pantyhose. This experience would be recanted many times by her and our family.
No matter how badly she felt or what indignity her disease offered, my Nanny’s coping mechanism was laughter. Today I vow to become more like her by coping with my illness by laughing in its face. Her life, laughter and love shall carry me through the difficult times.
