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I got a funny feeling we missed a page or two somehow Ohh-ohhhh, Cinderella, maybe you could help us out Does the shoe fit you now
Through the years and the kids and the jobs
Hey hey, Cinderella, what's the story all about
We're older but no more the wise -- suzy bogguss -- |
Family Lessons I don't talk much about my family. By family I mean my parents, my grandparents, etc. I guess it's because I don't have many good things to say about them, and I'm usually pretty big on the "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all" repitoire. (Shocking, I know.) But, this weekend, David and I started talking about family, mostly about our grandparents. He knows more about my family than any of my other friends, not because I've vented, or talked to him about them, but because he's been there, and he's seen it from my side of the situation. We sat in Starbucks on Friday night, and somehow got on the subject of his grandmother, who is not doing very well at all these days. He hasn't gone to see her in almost a year now, and she's here in town. I can understand how he feels. Before my grandmother passed away in 2000 I hadn't seen her in almost 6 months, and she was less than 10 miles away. It's hard to walk into a hospice room, or a nursing home, and see the once lively person laying there helpless and worse, hopeless. I regret daily not going to see her. Mostly because as I was growing up I had very little respect for her. She was mean, and constantly got on to me for not being "a lady". Even as a small child I knew her achievements, all the great things she'd done in her life, and that I was not to dissapoint her. Maybe the reason I didn't go to see her all those monthes is because I felt like I'd failed her with all my wrong doings, and mistakes. But as I've grown into an adult, I know that I'm very much the same person she is. I get very many of my physical traits from her... which is why I look like neither my mother or father. I also love to read, which, is something I remember her doing all the time. Small as it may be, I know that she's very much a part of my life when I do these things. As for my parents, which is where I wanted this entry to go anyway, David and I had a long disscussion. He asked if seeing my father using a walker to get around bothered me; if it hurt me to see him that way. He is only 52, and cannot walk on his own at all. It's only a matter of time before he'll have to be in a wheelchair and completely immobile. My answer was simple, and without emotion. It's plainly, no. I have no sympathy for this man. None at all. He's done it all to himself, and for that, why should I be sorry? Why should I feel bad for a man who's spent his life in a bottle, refuses to get out of it, even today, and then can't function properly? My mother is another case. She's mentally and emotionally torn to pieces. She had the potential as a young woman to be a great artist, a wonderful mother. She turned out to be neither of these things. My mother was not strong for us. She never once stood up for me when my father and I were fighting. She would go into the "back room" and smoke, and cry that I was destroying the family. This still bothers me to this day. How I could be destroying the family? What I was destroying was one man's hold on one out of several people who were trained to think they were weaker than his alcohol. I have no sypathy for her either. Maybe I'm heartless, and maybe I'm hypocritical as I've asked for sympathy on an occasion or two for mistakes I've made. But the difference is I've corrected the mistakes. I've learned from them and changed the way things work. I'm no longer with the abusive husband who made it a point, and still tries, to tear me down. (I'm changing the locks today.....) I live on my own, even if it means that money is tight. I work many hours, so that money isn't as tight as it could be. I do many things that others probably look at as selfish, saying that I don't spend enough time with my child, with my "family". The problem is this, I spend more time with my child than a lot of parents. Her behaviour gives credit to this. If I were neglecting my child she would in no way be the loving, amazing little person I see daily. My child has someone in her life who shows her that love is more than time. My parents spent many, many hours with us. "Good Quality Time" they'd say. In the end, I've done nothing but resent them for it. It was those times that I felt they were making fools of themselves, usually in public. I don't know where this is going, or how I've let it carry on this long, I guess the general idea is simply that my parents, though there, were not the role modles a parent should be for their children. But they did teach me a few very important things. 1. Loving, is an action, just as much as not loving is. Loving means making compromise, even if it is with your children. You, of course, have to pick your battles, but your children are people, just as much as you are, and loving them proactively, gives them room to grow into who they are, not who you force them to be. 2. You can't drink your problems away. No matter how much you drink, how often, it only creates more problems. Numbing yourself temorarily only makes the pain worse later on. 3. I am stronger than most people give me credit for. I can stand up against almost anything. It may take me a while to realize it. It may hurt people in the process, but I'M better for it in the long run. 4. It doesn't matter if you think I'm right or wrong. It doesn't matter if you think I'm stubborn, think headed, or anything else, it's completely okay. I'm naturally a strongwilled person, I'll fight you into the ground, and I'll never appologize for it. I look at my younger brother's daily, and see how different our lives are, and the only difference in the way we grew up, is that I fought, and still fight, back.
Brief - 2007-07-05
all content copyright shewhowalks 2005
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