Folding the napkin I rolled up into a ring, over and over again around my finger, the feelings of true despair set in.
Across the table from me sat my father. So content, eating his burger and fries. I wished so desperately that I wasn't crawling out of my skin. No amount of praying for patience was going to change this moment.
I have sat with him many times, especially in his favorite haunt, "Apollo's".
This time, the hands on the clock were moving SLOWLY backwards. I wanted so much to give him this gift for Christmas.
It wasn't working like it used to. I could sit for hours patiently. I couldn't figure out the problem.
All I felt was an unbearably large hole where my heart was. He seemed happy as a clam eating the last of his french fries.
He was in festive spirits, rattling off the list of names of different relatives and their lives.
Asking me about Matt and Katie, {my children} and my husband.
Skirting any issues that might bring up real, honest to goodness feelings.
My father is a sweet man, but has always lacked courage and fortitude.
He has never stood up for anything in my life. Or my brothers or sisters that I know of.
It hit me today, sitting with him. It hit with a thud!
He never asks about ME. He asks about what the going's on in my family are, but not mine.
I could barely breathe. I really listened as he rattled off more stats on everyone of my brothers and sisters lives.
Hell, Joanne down the street, Madeline's daughter who lost 65 pounds was sure getting a lot of air time.
The real hurt from stripping it all away- this man named "Father," knew absolutely nothing about me.
The only thing that was known was the service I provided.
I made him feel good. I cared about him, listened, sat with him, was a fairly decent daughter.
This was hitting me today on such a gut level. The same courtesy had not been extended to me. I had to find my own way.
I had no example of how to be strong, follow through. Learn how to trust men. I don't ever remember being listened to. I remember being invisible. Frightened.
The years of having to fend for ourselves, while our mother feigned protection. The girls, my sisters.
Walking home from dances at midnight by myself because dad had "parked" the car already.
That was life.I do not feel anger at this man anymore.
I feel sadness for myself, for my sisters. For thinking we were never good enough to have a dad want to make sure
we were safe and sound. For feeling defective. Thinking somehow his rage, disappointment, lack of
accomplishment was somehow our doing.
The worst feeling of all, inferior to our brothers.
In the end, it worked out for us. We turned out to be quite strong little ladies.
We bought our own cars, yet in the pain of not having things paid for us, we learned, we grew.
I can't say too much has changed in my family, but I have. My sisters have.
We love our dad the best way we know how, in the present. He is a sweet man.
The hole never get's filled being around him. His neediness is great.
It can swallow me whole if not vigilant.
All that I can work on now, patience and forgiveness with him. I love him.
It is difficult on certain days to know he will never have a need to know about me, my life.
Just the service I provide. maybe that is just how it works. I have no idea. I think maybe he never had any of it to give in the first place. I think I have always had awfully high hopes.
I don't think those high hopes are a bad thing. They have just taken me into my twenty sixth year of marriage, with the man I
love. the man who would not dream, for one second of leaving his children stranded anywhere.
They have always had a ride. He has always stood up for them and what is right.
Maybe by seeing what I didn't get, I searched for what I needed. I know my dad probably looks back at his life with a fair amount of regret. I'm choosing hard as i might, to dig deep, and remember the sweet times.
Every time I let go and tell the truth a little bit more, i make that reality possible.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Monday, December 7, 2009
Waiting
I 'm listening to "Mercy", by Rocco De Lucca. One of Katie (my daughter's) favorite singers. All I can do is sit here and cry.
Here we go, I push repeat again on the CD. My habit of going into the sadness instead of walking away .
He is singing about waiting for the sun to shine. How poetic, as the rain falls softly, almost reverently outside.
Always this slight haunting feeling in my heart that doesn't leave me. The sheer ALONENESS. I got some fantastic
feed back from a writer that my husband works with, I just read it. She said to just keep writing, write my truth.
My truth comes in many layers with endless tears. I wonder, I fear, who really wants to hear what I have to offer?
The tears flow because I do not know my value as a writer. I am vulnerable and it hurts. Revealing what
seems to comes so naturally because I am out going. The gift of gab.This is my shield I have learned to wear as my
protection. Nothing more, nothing less. Just an illusion that has gotten me through my life. Gotten me to stumble
out of my unbearable shyness. When I get tongue tied and nervous. When it's really bad I will develop a slight lisp.
The younger days of waitressing has taught me to cover up my fears. I learned to be disarming and charming.
I never wanted anyone to ask questions about me. I learned very quickly to become a good listener. Ask lots of questions. Throw people quickly off a topic, onto another.
I did not know my value. I thought I had no value. I never thought mother and wife, all the other things i did
were ever a BIG enough title. I was ashamed of myself, yet I did not fully understand why.
Until I peeled the layers back, WAY back. It has not been easy. Not one step of the way. Just as writing this is not. Revealing things that FEEL shameful, bigger than life. Yet somehow when taken things out of the closet, they once again become manageable, life size.
So, today, this is what I write about. Real life. Where I am at. Waiting. I am waiting to step into the next phase of my life.
I am waiting to feel okay and not ashamed to reveal more about myself. I am waiting to know I am loved for me, even if I write
things that are not what others want to always hear. I need to speak them, and be okay with it.
I am waiting to allow the full joy I know is awaiting me, if I just say YES. So I write. That is how I get to YES faster.
Here we go, I push repeat again on the CD. My habit of going into the sadness instead of walking away .
He is singing about waiting for the sun to shine. How poetic, as the rain falls softly, almost reverently outside.
Always this slight haunting feeling in my heart that doesn't leave me. The sheer ALONENESS. I got some fantastic
feed back from a writer that my husband works with, I just read it. She said to just keep writing, write my truth.
My truth comes in many layers with endless tears. I wonder, I fear, who really wants to hear what I have to offer?
The tears flow because I do not know my value as a writer. I am vulnerable and it hurts. Revealing what
seems to comes so naturally because I am out going. The gift of gab.This is my shield I have learned to wear as my
protection. Nothing more, nothing less. Just an illusion that has gotten me through my life. Gotten me to stumble
out of my unbearable shyness. When I get tongue tied and nervous. When it's really bad I will develop a slight lisp.
The younger days of waitressing has taught me to cover up my fears. I learned to be disarming and charming.
I never wanted anyone to ask questions about me. I learned very quickly to become a good listener. Ask lots of questions. Throw people quickly off a topic, onto another.
I did not know my value. I thought I had no value. I never thought mother and wife, all the other things i did
were ever a BIG enough title. I was ashamed of myself, yet I did not fully understand why.
Until I peeled the layers back, WAY back. It has not been easy. Not one step of the way. Just as writing this is not. Revealing things that FEEL shameful, bigger than life. Yet somehow when taken things out of the closet, they once again become manageable, life size.
So, today, this is what I write about. Real life. Where I am at. Waiting. I am waiting to step into the next phase of my life.
I am waiting to feel okay and not ashamed to reveal more about myself. I am waiting to know I am loved for me, even if I write
things that are not what others want to always hear. I need to speak them, and be okay with it.
I am waiting to allow the full joy I know is awaiting me, if I just say YES. So I write. That is how I get to YES faster.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
You've Got A Friend
James Taylor, Cat Stevens. the list goes on and on. My childhood heroes, friends.
I could not understand the power and passion it inspired in me: Stevie Wonders' "Songs in the Key of Life".
My sisters and i got a record player for Christmas when I was in 9th grade. I heard "Loves in need of love today", and must have worn out the record.
I was too young to understand the true meaning coming from these deeply passionate artists. Yet I understood In my naive way so starved, hungry for something I could not yet name. but only feel with my heart. As Carly Simon cried out her pain, I felt it. Not yet in touch with my own pain yet.
What I realized just today, through the sage words of my husband;" These songs were your friends."
So true, and without hesitation I agree. James Taylor and Carole King comforted me to no end with "You've got a friend".
I tried desperately to be hip and like Led Zepplin. But Eagles and "Desperado" kept playing in my ear.
Of course it was with total teen drama. I had to slunk myself around. Who wouldn't listening to "Desperado"?
I was extremely dramatic, did you expect anything less?
I also secretly dug the Carpenters, and also went to a Bread concert. James Taylor was and always will be my boy, hands down. Second love, Kenny Loggins. What makes it better is he is a local. He grew up nearby. An unlikely love: Gordon Lightfoot. Exposed to him at a very young age, through the first hubby. At 17 started going to Gordon Lightfoot concerts. Very unhip to my friends. Funny thing is, Ray fell in love with Gordon Lightfoot. Thanks 1st hubby.
As I am writing, I am once again listening to "Songs in the Key of Life". I am traveling so far back in time. The Christmas we got our record player must have been 1976. It was so exciting getting that record player. Music has and always will be my first love. It is how I see the world. I think it was the key to my survival. I went so deep inside the music. It spoke to me. It held me. It allowed me to express what I did not even understand needed expression.
Then there was Queen. I was in heaven. Loud but rockin, my soul felt the beat. The pain, the sheer joy. Elton John and all his moods. His 70's music to me is the best. It kills me to hear some of it. There is the fun stuff, but his raw pain of finding who he was.That was the best.
"Saturn", from the Stevie Wonder album "Songs", I am only really absorbing. To really listen. That's what I am going
back and doing. With these songs I didn't understand before. Only felt. My ultimate song was from Cat Stevens
"Sad Lisa". I hung onto that song of sadness and was not giving it up. I think my pitbull jaws finally released that one by 40.
Songs, Music. Life. They weave such an intricate dance into our lives. Our memories, emotions.
We can recall an exact moment from 30 years before, or 10 minutes ago, when THAT song comes on.
It can take us to the highest of highs. Or break our hearts. All in an instant. A mere 3 minutes or so.
"American Pie" by Don Mclean just came on. What does it make you recall depending on your age? I wonder- 70's days or a remake Madonna did? My heart races faster BECAUSE I remember. So much more is coming back, the more I allow it.
Hearing my music again. Before I didn't understand. Now I am so grateful that they were all here for me.
My pals, James, Carly, Stevie, Kenny,Carole and all the others that gathered around and helped me grow up. Nurtured my soul, educated me. Calmed my fears. Taught me how to love. Their words led me to ME.
Thanks Don McClean, for" Starry Starry Night.'' It made me feel less alone. To be able to have the courage to write and be ME.
I could not understand the power and passion it inspired in me: Stevie Wonders' "Songs in the Key of Life".
My sisters and i got a record player for Christmas when I was in 9th grade. I heard "Loves in need of love today", and must have worn out the record.
I was too young to understand the true meaning coming from these deeply passionate artists. Yet I understood In my naive way so starved, hungry for something I could not yet name. but only feel with my heart. As Carly Simon cried out her pain, I felt it. Not yet in touch with my own pain yet.
What I realized just today, through the sage words of my husband;" These songs were your friends."
So true, and without hesitation I agree. James Taylor and Carole King comforted me to no end with "You've got a friend".
I tried desperately to be hip and like Led Zepplin. But Eagles and "Desperado" kept playing in my ear.
Of course it was with total teen drama. I had to slunk myself around. Who wouldn't listening to "Desperado"?
I was extremely dramatic, did you expect anything less?
I also secretly dug the Carpenters, and also went to a Bread concert. James Taylor was and always will be my boy, hands down. Second love, Kenny Loggins. What makes it better is he is a local. He grew up nearby. An unlikely love: Gordon Lightfoot. Exposed to him at a very young age, through the first hubby. At 17 started going to Gordon Lightfoot concerts. Very unhip to my friends. Funny thing is, Ray fell in love with Gordon Lightfoot. Thanks 1st hubby.
As I am writing, I am once again listening to "Songs in the Key of Life". I am traveling so far back in time. The Christmas we got our record player must have been 1976. It was so exciting getting that record player. Music has and always will be my first love. It is how I see the world. I think it was the key to my survival. I went so deep inside the music. It spoke to me. It held me. It allowed me to express what I did not even understand needed expression.
Then there was Queen. I was in heaven. Loud but rockin, my soul felt the beat. The pain, the sheer joy. Elton John and all his moods. His 70's music to me is the best. It kills me to hear some of it. There is the fun stuff, but his raw pain of finding who he was.That was the best.
"Saturn", from the Stevie Wonder album "Songs", I am only really absorbing. To really listen. That's what I am going
back and doing. With these songs I didn't understand before. Only felt. My ultimate song was from Cat Stevens
"Sad Lisa". I hung onto that song of sadness and was not giving it up. I think my pitbull jaws finally released that one by 40.
Songs, Music. Life. They weave such an intricate dance into our lives. Our memories, emotions.
We can recall an exact moment from 30 years before, or 10 minutes ago, when THAT song comes on.
It can take us to the highest of highs. Or break our hearts. All in an instant. A mere 3 minutes or so.
"American Pie" by Don Mclean just came on. What does it make you recall depending on your age? I wonder- 70's days or a remake Madonna did? My heart races faster BECAUSE I remember. So much more is coming back, the more I allow it.
Hearing my music again. Before I didn't understand. Now I am so grateful that they were all here for me.
My pals, James, Carly, Stevie, Kenny,Carole and all the others that gathered around and helped me grow up. Nurtured my soul, educated me. Calmed my fears. Taught me how to love. Their words led me to ME.
Thanks Don McClean, for" Starry Starry Night.'' It made me feel less alone. To be able to have the courage to write and be ME.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Love
As I sit at this desk in the family room and write, I look over at my husband. Sleepy on the couch after a
long day. Sometimes I watch him and can't believe we have been married so long. My heart still gets
giddy when he is near. In a few days we will celebrate 26 years of marriage. How could it feel like yesterday
that I just married him. Even with everything we have been through. My love for him has only deepened.
No one makes me laugh like him. Or makes me feel safer. When we drive home from somewhere with
two cars, him following right behind me. He is always there, waiting for me-making sure I am safe. I love that.
Seeing the boyish twinkle in his eyes when we are nearing the sound of a train. The chase begins.
Only through maturity as I grew , could I possibly understand the romance and delight in his heart, as that mighty engine
roars and sings and draws him in to the dance.
Patience that I did not possess in the earlier years. Seeing my love with his friends and the joy in their eyes.
The spark in their hearts. Brought together by a large piece of steel, that magical locomotive. Men from all walks of life. Brought together to feel alive, passionate, carefree. All for reasons of their own.
This man I love so much, this kind, patient, funny , loving, family man. Incredible father to our two children.
.
These kids are so amazing, mostly from their father. Not having any example of a family
to build on from his own, he has dug in so deep to become all he is today.
A goodhearted, caring, thoughtful, patient man. His family has and will always come first. His example to overcome the odds
of poverty and fear that split his family apart. Alcoholism that ultimately destroyed it. Leading a father to abandon his children. A mother to disappear into her own world of pain and despair. Who was to care for the children?
I love this man. More than that, I respect his choices. It has been a long, difficult road. I have watched his struggles. I have witnessed his triumphs. He is my hero. He is my partner. He is my love.
i have had the privilege of traveling this road with him. All the bumps, from the get- go. That's what makes it so special. We started out together without anything. Which in turn makes us appreciate EVERYTHING.
I LOVE him. I would do it again. In a hear beat- even AND especially with everything I know.
long day. Sometimes I watch him and can't believe we have been married so long. My heart still gets
giddy when he is near. In a few days we will celebrate 26 years of marriage. How could it feel like yesterday
that I just married him. Even with everything we have been through. My love for him has only deepened.
No one makes me laugh like him. Or makes me feel safer. When we drive home from somewhere with
two cars, him following right behind me. He is always there, waiting for me-making sure I am safe. I love that.
Seeing the boyish twinkle in his eyes when we are nearing the sound of a train. The chase begins.
Only through maturity as I grew , could I possibly understand the romance and delight in his heart, as that mighty engine
roars and sings and draws him in to the dance.
Patience that I did not possess in the earlier years. Seeing my love with his friends and the joy in their eyes.
The spark in their hearts. Brought together by a large piece of steel, that magical locomotive. Men from all walks of life. Brought together to feel alive, passionate, carefree. All for reasons of their own.
This man I love so much, this kind, patient, funny , loving, family man. Incredible father to our two children.
.
These kids are so amazing, mostly from their father. Not having any example of a family
to build on from his own, he has dug in so deep to become all he is today.
A goodhearted, caring, thoughtful, patient man. His family has and will always come first. His example to overcome the odds
of poverty and fear that split his family apart. Alcoholism that ultimately destroyed it. Leading a father to abandon his children. A mother to disappear into her own world of pain and despair. Who was to care for the children?
I love this man. More than that, I respect his choices. It has been a long, difficult road. I have watched his struggles. I have witnessed his triumphs. He is my hero. He is my partner. He is my love.
i have had the privilege of traveling this road with him. All the bumps, from the get- go. That's what makes it so special. We started out together without anything. Which in turn makes us appreciate EVERYTHING.
I LOVE him. I would do it again. In a hear beat- even AND especially with everything I know.
The Gift
Yesterday will be one of those days, moments in my life that will be forever etched in my heart.
I could not even sit down to write. I needed time to let myself enjoy the magic. Let it sink in.
The gift. My husband and I drove down towards the Beach and had lunch in a small quaint town.
We realized how long it had been since we had slowed down for JUST US.
Tension unwound and flew off us as we sat in this wonderful cafe. We drank in the atmosphere.
Our tanks felt full, our hearts light and like children ready to explore we were off.
It had been an awfully long time since either of us had felt like this.
A few stores were interesting, but when we rounded the corner my eye caught this old fashioned
life size Santa, I just KNEW. My heart was racing and I couldn't walk in the store fast enough.
It was exactly how I wanted it to be, needed it to be. Very rustic, old time Christmas feeling.
Very Americana. What I always long for. Not a cut out paper thin version- made in China to fall apart the next day.
I may be dating myself or a sentimental fool, but I liked when things were REAL. Didn't fall apart. Had value.
The two sisters who ran the store could not have been more charming. Warm, welcoming- as if it were their home, welcoming us in from the cold. My heart was feeling things I could not yet understand.
Then I looked up. The tears came. I could not control myself, nor did I try. I knew I was in a moment of life:
a Twilight Zone Episode. This episode was just for ME. I didn't want to miss one second of it. I had seen this vision, this moment in my head so many times since I was a child. It was now staring down flying across the entire wall at me.
Santa, sleigh and all his reindeer, bigger than life. i couldn't breathe. I just sat on a stool in front of them and sobbed.
With all the pent up tears of a child who had stopped dreaming so long ago. I had kept this vision, which I had seen as a child on a
roof. It was the most beautiful sight I could possibly imagine. Here it was. The darling store owner said it was for sale.
My husband has always known that ache in my heart, throughout the years. He sat with me as I wept, as did the sisters. They shared their story of their parents dying recently. I felt their pain and loss. They supported and loved me by ALLOWING me to re-connect with the child in myself from so long ago.. It was one of those golden moments in life.
The generosity of spirit in these two beautiful women, allowing me to claim what I lost so long ago. My husband's
constant and unwavering support. i felt like s a child in that moment. Kissed and embraced by Angels.
I felt the pieces of me returning. I realized what I had grown up with. Hopelessness. The Dream Stealers.
Not intentionally.Yet all dreams had to be snuffed if Momma Bear didn't get hers. I could breathe.I couldn't stop crying, but I felt over 40 years of hopelessness and lack of dreams DRAIN out of my heart. I felt less anger for The Dream Stealers.
Yet I realize more than ever I need to move forward for myself and my family. i have a lot of years and dreams to live.
Most important, I have my giant Santa and Reindeer with Sleigh to hang across the wall. It's too fragile now to go on the roof.
I think it makes me even more gleeful to have them all together hanging in my home.
I am HOME. It is a Merry Christmas. And I have always believed in Santa even if I did it in secret. He has been deep in
my heart. This is my new tradition for my family that I love and hold so dear.
I could not even sit down to write. I needed time to let myself enjoy the magic. Let it sink in.
The gift. My husband and I drove down towards the Beach and had lunch in a small quaint town.
We realized how long it had been since we had slowed down for JUST US.
Tension unwound and flew off us as we sat in this wonderful cafe. We drank in the atmosphere.
Our tanks felt full, our hearts light and like children ready to explore we were off.
It had been an awfully long time since either of us had felt like this.
A few stores were interesting, but when we rounded the corner my eye caught this old fashioned
life size Santa, I just KNEW. My heart was racing and I couldn't walk in the store fast enough.
It was exactly how I wanted it to be, needed it to be. Very rustic, old time Christmas feeling.
Very Americana. What I always long for. Not a cut out paper thin version- made in China to fall apart the next day.
I may be dating myself or a sentimental fool, but I liked when things were REAL. Didn't fall apart. Had value.
The two sisters who ran the store could not have been more charming. Warm, welcoming- as if it were their home, welcoming us in from the cold. My heart was feeling things I could not yet understand.
Then I looked up. The tears came. I could not control myself, nor did I try. I knew I was in a moment of life:
a Twilight Zone Episode. This episode was just for ME. I didn't want to miss one second of it. I had seen this vision, this moment in my head so many times since I was a child. It was now staring down flying across the entire wall at me.
Santa, sleigh and all his reindeer, bigger than life. i couldn't breathe. I just sat on a stool in front of them and sobbed.
With all the pent up tears of a child who had stopped dreaming so long ago. I had kept this vision, which I had seen as a child on a
roof. It was the most beautiful sight I could possibly imagine. Here it was. The darling store owner said it was for sale.
My husband has always known that ache in my heart, throughout the years. He sat with me as I wept, as did the sisters. They shared their story of their parents dying recently. I felt their pain and loss. They supported and loved me by ALLOWING me to re-connect with the child in myself from so long ago.. It was one of those golden moments in life.
The generosity of spirit in these two beautiful women, allowing me to claim what I lost so long ago. My husband's
constant and unwavering support. i felt like s a child in that moment. Kissed and embraced by Angels.
I felt the pieces of me returning. I realized what I had grown up with. Hopelessness. The Dream Stealers.
Not intentionally.Yet all dreams had to be snuffed if Momma Bear didn't get hers. I could breathe.I couldn't stop crying, but I felt over 40 years of hopelessness and lack of dreams DRAIN out of my heart. I felt less anger for The Dream Stealers.
Yet I realize more than ever I need to move forward for myself and my family. i have a lot of years and dreams to live.
Most important, I have my giant Santa and Reindeer with Sleigh to hang across the wall. It's too fragile now to go on the roof.
I think it makes me even more gleeful to have them all together hanging in my home.
I am HOME. It is a Merry Christmas. And I have always believed in Santa even if I did it in secret. He has been deep in
my heart. This is my new tradition for my family that I love and hold so dear.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
What's Lurking In The Closet
Until you open that closet door - any door for that matter. One's that hold untold stories no longer belonging
in our minds, our hearts. Outdated- like boogie men under the bed. Making it hard to be free and able to show
up for the "now" part of our lives.
Last night I spent the evening with one of my closest friends. This very subject came up about things that have lingered in the closet having haunted us both from our childhoods. However, this was not just figuratively, it was literally
as we retold stories from our youth.
Stories of DEEP shame. Especially as my dear friend recalled an incident from her past where she was humiliated.
Publicly displayed, mocked for all to see, judge by her peers. No child should have to recall such pain. I have told my friend my deepest wounds of shame. The one's that have lurked so deep dark in the back part of my closet. No mans land. She has listened to my pain. My helplessness.She has helped give a VOICE to my shame.
.
We are learning to trust each other coming from similar backgrounds. Both of us in our youth, having felt like loveless children. Invisible.Not worthy of touch, comfort-knowing we had value.
Together we are learning how to build a bridge of love and trust, not only in the good times ESPECIALLY in the bad ones.
From growing up with similar stories we are like babes in the woods. We know how to love , yet we never had a solid example from either of our mothers how to keep a friendship going in the rough times. We struggle in those times. We flounder, have abandoned ship.Wedid not know any other way.
We have always loved each other, never been a doubt. Now we are learning the true art of support.
Even and especially when we disagree, get scared. Fill in the blanks. We are trusting that we will be loved unconditionally.
That is a very new concept, a new land for us. I must say the navigation of this new land seems to be not as bumpy as feared.
I am enjoying the ride immensely. I can't wait for all the new sights to see with her.
I've missed my friend. The more we take the secrets out of the back of the closet, the the more we are free.The way I see it, our lives are just beginning. We are ready to play, my friend and me!
in our minds, our hearts. Outdated- like boogie men under the bed. Making it hard to be free and able to show
up for the "now" part of our lives.
Last night I spent the evening with one of my closest friends. This very subject came up about things that have lingered in the closet having haunted us both from our childhoods. However, this was not just figuratively, it was literally
as we retold stories from our youth.
Stories of DEEP shame. Especially as my dear friend recalled an incident from her past where she was humiliated.
Publicly displayed, mocked for all to see, judge by her peers. No child should have to recall such pain. I have told my friend my deepest wounds of shame. The one's that have lurked so deep dark in the back part of my closet. No mans land. She has listened to my pain. My helplessness.She has helped give a VOICE to my shame.
.
We are learning to trust each other coming from similar backgrounds. Both of us in our youth, having felt like loveless children. Invisible.Not worthy of touch, comfort-knowing we had value.
Together we are learning how to build a bridge of love and trust, not only in the good times ESPECIALLY in the bad ones.
From growing up with similar stories we are like babes in the woods. We know how to love , yet we never had a solid example from either of our mothers how to keep a friendship going in the rough times. We struggle in those times. We flounder, have abandoned ship.Wedid not know any other way.
We have always loved each other, never been a doubt. Now we are learning the true art of support.
Even and especially when we disagree, get scared. Fill in the blanks. We are trusting that we will be loved unconditionally.
That is a very new concept, a new land for us. I must say the navigation of this new land seems to be not as bumpy as feared.
I am enjoying the ride immensely. I can't wait for all the new sights to see with her.
I've missed my friend. The more we take the secrets out of the back of the closet, the the more we are free.The way I see it, our lives are just beginning. We are ready to play, my friend and me!
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Opening My Heart
Sometimes opening my heart feels like a scary monster. I would continue the sentence, but I wanted to allow the child in me to verbalize the complete and total fear and vulnerability that it has taken to open it. To keep it open- well that is entirely a whole other story. It flaps to and fro in the breeze. Some days it feels like it is bursting with enthusiasm. ME and MY heart can take on the Universe. No matter the obstacles that lay before us. I am Super Clare.
Then there are those days where my heart feels crushed, broken beyond repair. Tears, frustration, anxiety when it's
unwelcome stepsister futility joins the party. Well let's just say I've seen better days.
When I am pushed to my absolute limit, that's when the bartering of recent has really kicked in with God and me.
It starts out like a decent conversation. This new land I have encountered, so foreign. I can't find ANY road signs written in my native tongue. The glasses I had, no longer provide proper vision. I can't see. I need to rely on senses I never even knew I had.
The explosions begin. Where are you God/ and how can you leave me out here in this nothingness after all THIS.
I thought we had been through it all. We have done the sight seeing part. Sat in the muck all those years. I have had the silence,"The Dark night of the Soul," looked like picnic next to this road.
The level of doubt in my heart, where I may have questioned many things about You. Now I had begun to disdain You,
reject You. It was freeing, because the God I grew up with was so punishing. The one I was now raging at finally was allowing me to show my human frailties, and love me any way. Embrace me, comfort me through the long dark night.
My heart opened even wider when I felt love even and especially in my doubt, fear , anger, rage, complete loss and aloneness.
It may have taken, and in fact is taking me the longer road to get where I need to go. Yet somehow through all of these storms, trials, I am still arriving where I need to, when I need to. I am letting go a little more every day.
I am learning I am loved "As Is".
Then there are those days where my heart feels crushed, broken beyond repair. Tears, frustration, anxiety when it's
unwelcome stepsister futility joins the party. Well let's just say I've seen better days.
When I am pushed to my absolute limit, that's when the bartering of recent has really kicked in with God and me.
It starts out like a decent conversation. This new land I have encountered, so foreign. I can't find ANY road signs written in my native tongue. The glasses I had, no longer provide proper vision. I can't see. I need to rely on senses I never even knew I had.
The explosions begin. Where are you God/ and how can you leave me out here in this nothingness after all THIS.
I thought we had been through it all. We have done the sight seeing part. Sat in the muck all those years. I have had the silence,"The Dark night of the Soul," looked like picnic next to this road.
The level of doubt in my heart, where I may have questioned many things about You. Now I had begun to disdain You,
reject You. It was freeing, because the God I grew up with was so punishing. The one I was now raging at finally was allowing me to show my human frailties, and love me any way. Embrace me, comfort me through the long dark night.
My heart opened even wider when I felt love even and especially in my doubt, fear , anger, rage, complete loss and aloneness.
It may have taken, and in fact is taking me the longer road to get where I need to go. Yet somehow through all of these storms, trials, I am still arriving where I need to, when I need to. I am letting go a little more every day.
I am learning I am loved "As Is".
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