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| It has been a tiring week in our house. Mikey has been sick, which means no sleep for me. Poor thing, if he isn't better by Monday, we are going to the doctor (oh, fun). Lillian has decided that sleep is optional, which also means no sleep for me. She has been staying up until at least 11:00 every night this week, and is up before 7:00 am. I mean 8 hours may be enough for an adult, but seriously - she's three. Aren't 3 year-old children supposed to get more sleep?
I am 25. Wow, 25. It was a hard birthday for me. There are several reasons why, but the main reason was I wasn't ready to face the fact that I am getting older. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed my kids being able to sing happy birthday, and being able to have a date night with my husband.
Anyway, I have been reading a new book. It indulges my love of history, especially the turmoil and intrigue of the Tudor dynasty. Sometimes I wish I owned a time machine so I could observe first hand the events of 15th and 16th century Europe. Maybe I should've majored in history.
Work has been interesting. I am sticking with it, even though the political mess that comes from working for the state stresses me out. I am seriously concerned about the new director that we are going to be assigned. Our old director resigned, and is stepping down to the AD of Administration position (which he used to hold). However, there has been no word about who will be the new director. I doubt it will be someone from within our building, but I hope that it will be someone who is familiar with the process and Kansas City. All of the other directors that they have hired at other offices have been completely unfamiliar with the area of the state they have been assigned to and made major changes. Of course, most of those changes were unwelcome, but thats life. One of these days I will have an opportunity to return to school. I still don't know what I want to be when I am "officially" grown up.
JD loves his internship. I am so happy that he has found something he enjoys doing. I hope that he is able to keep up a good work ethic and reputation with them. I would really like to see him be employed with JCCC, after his internship is complete.
So yeah, my aunt and grandmother are still angry and now they are refusing to speak with anyone who still talks to me, which includes some family and mutual friends. I feel that it is their loss, and puts them in an even worse light. Forgiveness is hard sometimes, but I was able to forgive them for years of pain. Why can't they forgive me for being honest with them? Better yet, why would they refuse to talk to people who genuinely care for them, just because those same people talk to me? It is really bizarre.
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| So I sent the letter to my grandmother at the end of June beginning of July, and I had not heard anything from her or from my family that speaks with her regularly. I almost thought that maybe she did not receive the letter, but I knew that wasn't the case.
Last week, my aunt (who told me about the things that sparked the letter) called and said that she received a package from my grandmother that had 2 pictures of me in it. She described the pictures, and I immediately knew which pictures they were. The pictures in question were the only two pictures of me that I saw displayed in her house after my dad died. So in essence, she is trying to erase the fact that I ever existed.
During this phone conversation, I was also informed that my grandmother had failed her stress test and needed to have a heart cath performed. After not hearing about the results of her heart cath, I contacted a friend in Meridian who still talks with my family. She has been keeping me in the "loop." After the heart cath, my grandmother had to be transported to Birmingham and have double bypass surgery. She made it through the surgery fine, and is expected to go home early next week. I have been in close contact with my friend to make sure that my grandmother is healing well, and is stable. Which of course, she is doing better than expected.
Yesterday, I spoke with my cousin Courtney (who read the letter), and she stated that my grandmother's response to the letter was not good. Courtney informed me that my grandmother had called Courtney's father and stated that I had said many horrible and mean things to her and about her, and did not know why I was so ungrateful. Courtney told her father that she had read the letter and such things were not expressed. She also informed him about what has happened in my life in the past 4 1/2 years, since no one has really kept up with me. According to Courtney, she is pretty sure that my Grandmother told many people in my family (including Courtney) that my letter was hateful and horrible, when it was not.
I know that I shouldn't be so hurt by the words of a woman who cannot see past her own pain, but I am. I hoped that she would say I am sorry, or would try to have a relationship with me, but again she is working through others to try and hurt me. I didn't realize how much her response would hurt, even though I knew that would be her response. I still care for her and have been praying for her to do well through her surgery and recovery, but I am beginning to realize that she would not afford me the same love and kindness.
I am thinking about writing her another letter. This time to tell her that I hope she is well, and that the first letter was not intended to be taken in the manner that she read it. I know that she would probably not read the letter if it was sent, but I think that I would feel better knowing that she at least had another opportunity to know my thoughts and feelings.
This whole situation makes me miss my father so much more. Especially because he had a great way of putting it all into perspective.
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| I think that I might try to re-enter the world of Xanga and blogging. There are so many things on my mind and in my heart that I definitely need to release. Some of these things are not pleasant, but in my mind need to be put "on paper." Maybe I am searching for validation, maybe I am looking for an answer, but honestly I think I just want to put my thoughts down in words. I will begin with one of the most recent heart wrenching events in my life.
My grandmother decided to question the relationship that I had with my father. She also decided to attack my brother and I. She also decided that it was smart to accuse me and my brother of putting a single black rose on my father's grave and remove all of "her" flowers that she had placed there. First of all, my brother lives 3 1/2 hours from my hometown where my father is buried. I live even further away (11 1/2 hours to be exact). This gross accusation was made without a thought to asking my brother and I if we were responsible. So I decided to write her a letter. The letter talked of my disappointment with her and her actions. It mentioned my sadness regarding her desire to continue to question my love for my father. I also detailed many aspects of our (my father and I) relationship for her. Many people have read this letter, including her. I have yet to hear anything from her or my aunt (who also makes crazy accusations). I feel that they are missing out on getting to know not only me, but my wonderful children. It makes no sense to me how one can be so bitter to ignore their own grandchildren, and pretend they don't exist - unless, of course, they can bring you some sympathy/notoriety. I think that the letter is what has brought about this recent desire to write/blog again. It was wonderful to put my true feelings into a letter, to be able to read them, and be healed by the realization that I have grown to be so much more than the young woman that I was four years ago. Because of that, I am inserting part of the letter.
"I feel as though you have chosen to be blind to the reality of the nature of my relationship with my dad. It hurts me the most to hear that you think I did not love my father or did not have a great relationship with him. And, even if you have never said it, I know that you feel that way. It is evident in your lack of communication with me, and it is evident in the manner in which you do interact with me when given the opportunity. I spent 20 years of my life loving my daddy, caring for my him, monitoring his health and well-being, learning his life-story, and being one of his best friends. He was my best friend. He was my everything..."
"He was the one who first knew that I was sick. He was with me the first time that wave of vertigo and tinnitus hit me. He was with me the day I was diagnosed with Meniere’s Disease. He was the one who told me daily to “kiss [my] monster until it becomes something beautiful.” I knew he cried for me, as I had cried for him so many times when he was sick. He was my biggest supporter..."
"My daddy’s last words to me, as he was convulsing and hooked up to the ventilator after being brought back to life, were “I love you.” And hours later, as I stood there, holding his hand and holding the hand of a woman who also considered him her father, I watched my father die. I watched his last heartbeat flicker on the monitor. I always told him that I didn’t want to share that moment, but now, I wouldn’t have it any other way. We shared so many of life’s triumphs, failures, and disappointments, that why shouldn’t that be the last moment we shared as father and daughter.
In the quiet of that moment, holding his hand and holding hers, I knew that my life would never be the same. As I composed myself, and took the first few steps away from the prison that was my father’s body, I became a different woman. The events that followed that one solitary moment changed me so much, that I wonder how people even recognize the person that I am today..."
I am not searching for any comments/validation/sympathy, but I am looking for a place to put my pent up thoughts down. If you would like to react to the parts of the letter I included, please feel free.
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| Mikey turned one Thursday! I can totally believe it has been a year since his birth. So much has changed in our lives since he was born. He has been such a blessing to me. He is my happy little butterball. He is just so very content, and laid back. His laugh is probably one of the cutest things I have ever heard. He just makes me smile. Also, I finally feel comfortable saying that he looks like me. Even though he has blonde wavy hair, I still say he looks like my side of the family.
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| Lillian is two years old today. I can't believe that my little one is now 2. Time has certainly flown by. I just thought for fun that I would post a then and now pic of her.
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