12-4

Sitting in your basement at 2:30 in the morning because you can't sleep is never the right way to deal with anger. In my defense, I really don't know what else to do but sit here and cry out to God as to what to do with all the hurt, because I am no longer able to function as a realistic wife/friend/mother/daughter with bottled up emotions. I am able to function in a way that people notice something is wrong, but maybe they can't pinpoint it, or perhaps they just don't know how to awkwardly ask why I am behaving in such a way that would make them notice. 

 

Whatever the reasoning, I still sit here. The light of my computer and the hum of my husbands computer. I wonder how long it will take before I go to bed. I wonder how long my husband will let me sleep it off tomorrow. I wonder how long I will continue to not talk to my Father. I wonder how long it will be before he finally calls. I wonder if I will answer. I wonder if my daughters will wonder why we don't visit them anymore. I am wondering if I will continue to feel this way or if it will subside with time, or if I will get bitter and angrier as time goes by. 

I feel like there is freedom ahead but am unsure how to walk towards it. I can see beautiful things but don't know how to reach out and touch them . This is surely to be a long and painful process.  I hope that my daughters will be able to see a strong woman, a loving mother, who stands guard over them, and not the weak and sobbing lady in her bathrobe in the basement. 

I'll never really know, I suppose. But I do know that I am raising my daughters to be able to talk to me, to be able to say the things they want to say, and I will listen. I will listen with every ounce of energy that I have, because I want it. I will be the grandparent that I see in my friends Larry and Helen. I will call my grandchildren, and I will ask them all about their day, and ask them what they had for lunch and who their friends are at school. I will encourage them in the things they love and I will kiss and hug and support them. I will call them on their birthday and tell them how wonderful and special they are. I will have the desire and drive to be the better grandparent.  I will sit at my kitchen table and have long talks with  my daughters over tea or coffee or whisky.. depends on what they are going through.  I will pat them on their hands with my old withered and worn hands, with love, letting them know that storms pass and better times are ahead.  

There is so much hope for them. They come from very loving parents, who in turn love in each other. We work together, and amuse our children with silly games and stories. We lay in the grass together and look at clouds and birds and stars. We play hide and go seek in our home and always act surprised when we hear giggling  coming from the closet and little faces jump out at us. And although it sounds warm and fuzzy and perfect, no ones family is ..  I am guessing that in the great balance of life, the sadness and heartbreak of my childhood and now adulthood will perhaps bring a greater sense of purpose, and create a loving family environment for my daughters childhood.  I learn from others mistakes. That is why I eloped. That is why I stand up for myself when I need to.. and why I stand back and not get involved in others conflicts. 

I am still learning. 

Hopefully a great big lesson soon will bring forth much wisdom.