There are those times when I’d like someone to know what is going on in my life, the struggle, the trial and yes the heartache, but saying it out loud makes it more of a reality. Life is certainly interesting. Just like that, someone can come back into my life only to begin the process of saying goodbye.
My heart has been heavy as I instinctively know where this part of my journey is leading. I begin to set things up and organize an end of life care plan and I wonder, have I been being prepared for this moment all along?
All I’ve ever wanted was time with you, to know you more, better and completely, but that wish never came to fruition. It’s as though I’ve been grieving and mourning the loss of you repeatedly for my entire life so far and then…
Easter Sunday comes and a stranger reached out to me through FB messenger. She informed me of the situation. Her mom, also essentially a stranger, had gone into the hospital and from there this conversation went on for 1 1/2 hours. I knew what I had to do and the next morning I began making calls, calling on all my resources, experience and knowledge from my in home care business to make a care plan and 3 days later I found myself in my car headed up north to visit the man I call Daddy. When I arrived, the situation was a little worse than I expected as I jumped into work mode to begin the process of a care plan.
In those first 8 hours I learned more than I ever knew and I will treasure them for the remainder of my life. My Daddy and I spent the day talking just the 2 of us, crying and sharing our hearts. Somehow I knew this was the moment I’d longed for since I was a little girl and in one sentence he was able to mend my deepest wound I’ve attempted to fill and repair on my own and with The Lord. I had always thought it had been irreparable after all this time until he told me of the day I was born. He spoke as if it were yesterday, how blessed he had felt. When he shared with me “the second they put you in my arms honey, I just knew you were my special, precious, baby girl and I loved you”. The feeling that washed over me was, “WANTED”.
A lifetime of this emptiness and struggle resolved with his simple declaration spoken from his heart to mine. God’s Mercy and Grace brought restoration I never knew I could have. Memories are few and very far between, but those that I do hold, I praise God for this ultimate gift today that I will cherish for eternity.
Now we walk through these days in preparation for our Daddy to go home to be with The Lord for only He knows the plan for the end that will be his new beginning for his restoration as he crosses the finish line to victory. Amen🙏🏻💫🙌🏼💖
Has someone ever made you feel completely worthless? Do you know they project their own unworthiness upon you? They will tear you completely down in order to build themselves up. That’s the empowerment they need to feel. Well, just to feel something, anything.
As a person with elevated super traits of agreeableness, tolerance, compassion, trusting, empathy and the list goes on, we become a target, the prey that these predators long for, need and seek out to find, possess and eventually… destroy for their sick pleasure of watching you suffer. They glorify in the fear they inflict and revel in your pain.
This is sadism at its sickest.
The only way to overcome the affects of this torturous lifestyle you’ve been a victim of, is to educate yourself so you can become smarter than they are sick. During the early stages of your healing recovery process you will begin to see all the ways in which you were misused and abused. It isn’t your fault. Because of your elevated loving super traits, you want to believe that others in this world are as you are, but sadly, those ones are not and never can be.
When you can finally come to terms with, it isn’t that they won’t change who they are, it is that they can’t, you will begin to breathe again. Personalities are hardwired and these predators are exactly that, animals. They have but one mission, to fuel their every need with the supply you provide.
Sitting with my 10 1/2 year old granddaughter as she’s doing 5th grade history homework, she reads passages to me and abruptly stops to declare, “that’s not right Grammy!” Clearly she’s upset, knowing her as well as I do, she expresses her opinion about the paragraph she just read. “They’re not Indians, that’s not okay to say. I’m not writing that for my answer.” My heart, warmed by her compassion and directness, I explained first that “history” is what we’re being told because we didn’t live back then. She balked at that, but then I commended her for being appalled and asked her what her preference is to fill in the blank on her paper. She said she would just write Americans. Then I handed her the missing tool and suggested she add Native to her answer. She smiled, agreed and wrote her new choice.
While I try to be cognitive of teachable moments and what I often find is I’m not always the teacher, regardless of someone’s age. We talked a little more about this. I praised her for standing on her convictions, beliefs and using her voice. I thought to myself how oppression has been the downfall of my life, hence the internal struggle. I can only imagine the horrific stories from history and particular heritages, what they encountered and endured.
The topic of evolving took place with her next. We aren’t where we once were, but we aren’t yet where (I hope) we are going either. That’s being a difference maker, I explained. Not just standing by, quietly accepting the unacceptable or tolerating intolerance. Tell me more about your heart, I asked her. Never dismiss or fear the true words, thoughts and feelings of a child (or adult) because given a safe space, they will always honor their truth.
Is it merely human nature or even the human condition that we make up stories in our own minds, judging others for why they are in the spot they are in in life? It happens all the time, the assumption of another’s choices and blaming them for why they are in this or that predicament when the reality is, we can’t possibly know their story without asking them. We simply don’t know what we don’t know. (wisdom from my wise 87 year old friend)
Taking a moment to understand someone else as I listen to their thought provoking perspective makes me smile in gratitude. Being right is far less important to me than loving someone where they are. That being said, I leave you with this mantra; I’ll be quiet (not silent), you can be right and I’ll be happy. There is no price tag on civility and Serenity, but there sure as shootin’ is a cost for close mindedness.
If God (insert your personal Source here) meant for us to pray and believe only one way, why did He create so much diversity? Love is love for humankind. Be the change you want to see. Fear less by being fearless. I’m proud of my (almost 5) grand-youngsters and what their parents (my kids) are teaching them about equality and human rights. It’s a beautiful thing to witness.
Back. Back from where? Was she ever really lost or just misguided? Her path obsolete, or obstructed? Her eyes lost sight of You. Her heart led astray, she gazes into darkness. What’s that strange glow over there? She wondered if she were to follow, where it would take her instead.
Alone. Could she even imagine? Her heart pounding with anticipation. Fear rises in her chest. Her breath gasps all the while as her feet press on. Trust this road. Strange as it may feel. Unsteady, untraveled, yet somehow safer, more will be revealed.
Brighter. The air smells clean. Her lungs catch the depth of her inhalation, taking another gulp. Releasing the toxins, her long exhalation, she sneaks one more and smiles. Even her vision, no longer impaired as she drinks in all the beauty in front of her.
Beckoning. The force pulls her. Unlike any she’s experienced before. This is sweeter, gentler, safer. “This way,” a soft whisper in her ear, “be the change you want to see”.
Puzzled. She shakes off the lies, pulls the constraints, flips the tape over to hear a different story. The one where she shines before her light went dim.
Solitude. She goes within. Silently she sits at last. Longer stretches of time pass. That awaited breath flows like never before. This must be what peace feels like.
Those lies, the ones they told me, I’m learning to rewrite the words in a way that inspires rather than devours me. In a word, or 4, I am a good person.
Ever get tired of listening to the sound of your own voice? The one that rattles on inside the corners of your mind? As I begin to take captive these very objective thoughts, I practice re-recording them. Now when I begin to play them back, I hear my voice, my truths, my consoling love and I let go. Capturing the simplicity and compassion I’ve longed for.
It isn’t in another where I seek and draw from the soothing joy I find within. I watch my daughter struggle with her inner being as she wrestles the demons that have haunted her, but she is all knowing. She always has been. She is a conqueror, a warrior and she’s afraid sometimes, but she rises up to take on the challenges of another day. I admire her completely. I support her in the ways she needs and I step back while she finds her way.
My life has been that incessant rollercoaster. This child of mine is most like me of all. She’s witnessed her mom’s struggles and has even inherited many of my traits. She is fiercely independent yet welcomes a hand up from her trusted allies. I embrace this journey she is on, loving her with absolute unconditional love while I learn by listening.
Even though she tells me not to be, I’m often apologetic for not seeing through her pain early in her life. I’m your mom I tell her, I knew instinctively of your hurting, but what it was I couldn’t figure out. I thank her for trusting me now. For being the bravest young person I’ve ever known. One who has courage when her fear stops her in her tracks, paralyzing her from taking a step on any given day, but somehow managing the next breath. In a world that is more divided, cannot accept diversity and is extremely judgmental, she perseveres. I tell her she has been blessed with this gift to do great things.
As my granddaughter and I walked up to join my daughter in line at the pharmacy yesterday, a woman in front had been chatting with her as they stood patiently awaiting their turn. She smiled at me as I took my place next to her and this kind, older lady asked, “is this your son? I was just saying there’s a twin in here that looks just like”… she trailed off, I felt my heart thump as this was my first encounter, an opportunity to practice my reply. I smiled at my daughter, hesitated, wanting to feel natural and proudly correct her, when the words, “they’re with me” escaped my lips just as my 9 year old granddaughter confidently spoke up, pointing at her dad, correcting the lady’s mistake… “her daughter”, she told the woman. “Ohh, sorry” her words apologetic and sincere. Both my daughter and I beamed as we looked at this unwavering little girl. We should all be so matter of fact, straightforward and honest.
She taught me a valuable lesson in that simple display of assuredness. This is not something to make any sort of issue out of, unless you choose to. Wisdom comes from the most untouched of places. I stood in awe and felt my heart swell in admiration. Life is as simple or difficult as we make it be.
She thanked her profusely for never following through with her suicidal thoughts. She couldn’t bring herself to ask if there were actual attempts. She just let her brain assume so, but prayed there weren’t and won’t be anymore. Fear…
These two are so freakishly alike it’s a beautiful harmonious connection. They’ve shared those thoughts as if these were good bonding moments. Really what it says is, “I know better than anyone, and understand your heavy heart, the devastating pain and deepest hurts you’re feeling”. Her mama couldn’t possibly know how she felt exactly, but the agony resonated. The feelings of complete despair and just a desire for the pain to stop. Yeah, that she gets. Confusion…
Mama sits with her, she’s learning to listen, really hear her child’s anguish, obstacles, fears and all the past that floods her head and it all pours out. Sometimes her words are accompanied with anger and outbursts still, almost always with tears and probably for a long while still with confusion of what to do next. “Take it slow, but definitely at your pace”, she encourages her. Processing…
Let her just vomit her words so the poison is extracted. “It’s ok”, she tells her, “I can hold it for you sweetie, I can take it”. Mama knows her frustration isn’t about her necessarily. She can be her sounding board, but not her punching bag or doormat. She’s learned that part of detachment pretty well. It’s not without difficulty when it’s your own child. Unconditional…
Ever since she was 12 her favorite expression was, “I got this mom”. And you know, she always has. Mama smiles intently at her, “I know baby, but it’s ok not to have it all figured out right here right now. Give time time and let things come to you naturally when you can. Forcing solutions can be frustrating as hell, as can sitting still, I know”. Wisdom…
Their talks are more frequent now and her mama is grateful for the relief she sees in her child’s face more often, now and then, here and there. This is only the beginning of all the transitions ahead, yet the only thing that ever matters to her mama is her children’s happiness, contentment and feeling loved, all of them. Closeness…
She gave birth to her and her brothers, she has them all on borrowed time and she knows this too well. Time is fleeting and life is precious. How quickly it can disappear, how fragile it actually is. Guilt consumes her some days. The “if only’s” play out in her head and she cries. Sadness overwhelms her at times and she makes time to call her child just to say I love you. She can’t seem to hug her tight enough when she sees her. Never again will she ever feel her mama’s absence, nor will her brothers. Available…
She thinks they still need her as they always have, but really it’s mama who’s needing them more. Present…