The Grandmother My Daughters Will Never Know

Often I find my way through life through reflection. Reflecting can be amazing but it can be triggered by anything, like news article puts you into unyielding tears.

"The double-edged nature of being a grandmother: Your thoughts turn powerfully toward the future — one that now includes the grandchildren you adore — at the very same moment you’re reminded of your own absence from that future. It’s an odd mixture of birth and death, which is what gives grandmotherhood its beauty, as well as its specific and poignant pain." Link to article.

That's all it took. I am crying because even though my daughters have amazing living great-grandmothers and grandmothers, they would never know the person most responsible for me. 

My adopted mother passed away from cancer almost 15 years ago. It feels like an entire lifetime ago, but yesterday at the same time. It hurts deep, the same deep hole I had felt not knowing my biological mother for 35 years. A piece of your heart is just gone. 

What weighs on my mind the most, are the things she would have lavished in and I mean, far more than birthdays and holidays. When my 11 year old pops off an attitudy remark at me... I imagine her in my mind laughing and saying "oh so much more to come my dear..."

I know she would say "You have a well-rounded group of women there, you're in good hands." But the selfish me wonders, why can't she be here too? I read articles about how important grandparents are and feel a bit cheated by it all... then feel guilty because she would say "You gained more people to love, how can you be sad?"

Those are two feelings that I got out of losing my mom: a deepened understanding of love and the inability to shake the regret of some of the idealistic youthful arguments I may have once had. Okay, actually... I had a lot of those .... or maybe an excellent memory of the number of things I said as an ignorant entitled little child. I realize that my nightly avoiding of washing the dishes was absolutely petulant of me. In those moments I wish for grace and forgiveness.

I dream about the conversations she and I might have about my biological mother. Those hypothetical discussions can provide a good distraction from feeling sad about all the things she is missing from not meeting her granddaughters and all they are missing by not knowing her.

I'm a Trauma Survivor

Tonight, I was mindlessly scrolling through Facebook and came across this and it stopped me in my tracks.

I don't know the source, only the person who shared it. But I read it over and over. "Trauma Survivor". One of my earliest memories was my adopted mother teaching me to be grateful for everything because "other people have it much worse."
I realized this was something she learned from experience, not information she was taught through education or family history.
I have survived a lot in my life yet, rarely do I blame the trauma.

• I've been cheated on in every serious relationship I have ever had, except for my husband. I'm guessing that is a big suppressed reason as to why I keep him around. 😉
• I have been abandoned more than once, but I have forgiven everyone and pushed to rebuild the relationships 
• I've survived a head on collision in a major city, which still gives me nightmares. 
• I survived a tornado as a child and that still gives me nightmares. 
• I have survived assault and rape. 
• I have survived a physically abusive relationship and a narsacist. 
• I've survived emotional and verbal abuse. 
• I survived addiction. 

And even after all that... I still believe there are others who have it worse.

I am pretty grateful to be a Trauma Survivor. Next time you judge someone, take a minute to contemplate what makes them a survivor.

18 years, 18 years and 18 more

"Good Things Come to Those Who Wait" ... Who ever said that was full of bullshit. Good things come to those that are determined to face whatever odds are in front of those things. 

The past three years have seemed like a war in my head. I have resisted all the odds and projections of my mental illness but that has taken a toll on my wellness and I have both physically and mentally suffered. 

I have fought a battle against having to become a caregiver, more than a spouse or a intimate partner.

I've watched my children go through a lot of emotional turbulence from moving from Phoenix back to our hometown because we lost just about everything except for ourselves. 

I've spent countless hours evaluating and reevaluating the things I find important in my life. 

I have become this Buddhist philosophy practicing former Catholic, while being surrounded by churchgoers asking me if I lost my belief in God? (The short answer is no, but I stopped anticipating him to be there for me, many years ago.) Do I pray? (Absolutely for others and myself.) Do I attend church? (No, because I don't believe the church connects people to a higher power anymore than I think my cat can solve the world's problems.)

My life is pretty much filled with skepticism and cynicism. I rarely rely on anyone else to do anything for me. I have learned that the hard way, unfortunately people will only be there for you if there is mutual gain involved in most situations. There are exceptions but there are also strings attached to everything.

I respect everyone, but trust no one. I learned that the hard way, repeatedly, because for a considerably long time I believed others felt (or thought) the same as I did. Naive I know, especially because I teach interpersonal communication and know the "ins" and "outs" of personal perception and internal perspectives. 

I was once a dreamer, now I am a realist. I'm not sure if that was something I learned or evolved into after having three children. But my personal bar got lowered and that disappoints me more than I will ever admit.

I have always and forever will be an empath, but I am slowly learning to say 'no' to the takers. Do I still help without bias? In a moment's notice, but I step back and aside when it comes to receiving credit for things. Credit is overrated and where many believe God will favor them, I believe karma will favor to me.

I still get taken advantage of in every outlet of my life. It hurts deeply and angers me greatly, but I am able to walk away from the fight much better than I once was.

I cry, but I also boss up because I learned that unless you speak up about your morals and values, you will never grow as a person. Yet, I choose my battles... arguing over the clothes my daughter wants to wear to school is not worth the effort or agony.

All and all, I'd like to think I have evolved over the last 18 years much more than I did the initial 18 years, but there is still much work to be done. I pray that I face the next 18 years with more courage and class, because those qualities seem more rare and rare every day.

The Worst Night of My Life: To the Unknown Defilers

I lay here in bed recalling the event, as if it occurred today. The night I was was a victim and desired prey. You should know I lost more than my innocence that night. I met you at a bar on State street, how naive I was when I agreed to meet. I remember clearly walking into the bar, then only moments until I woke up in my car.

I do remember thinking how odd it was that your friend met us during our date. I wasn't even tipsy when I met you there that night, and I suppose it happened when I first left my seat for the restroom

Shortly after, I remember feeling tired and weak in the knees. I remember your offer to help me to my car, even though I indicated it wasn't very far. I even remember you telling the bartender that your girlfriend wasn't feeling well, and you would safely take her home while your friend half carried me out the door, because I had nearly fallen to the floor.

I remember your friend aggressively pushing me into the backseat of my vehicle.
Then its mostly black. I felt pain in my soul that night. I woke up in the backseat in an abandoned parking lot, with no idea where I was or how I got there. And 2 hours late to work. Not knowing what happened other than my torn skirt.

I drove to work and changed to my khaki pants and red top. I wish this was the end, but the agony didn't stop.

I continued to lose track of minutes and time that night, not sure what I did other than try to finish my shift. I remember a kind older colleague see how broken I was and I am pretty sure he was the only one who cared. He made sure to wake me up after our hour lunch break, so I wouldn't get in trouble.

By the end of my shift, the HR manager had arrived and I was swept into a meeting without a moment's notice. Where I had no excuses nor did I know what was going on, until it ended. I was terminated on the spot because of a minor HR violation. I misplaced my box cutter.

As I cleaned out my locker, I found the box cutter and returned it to the HR manager, but it was already too late. That was what happened the night I was raped.

I sometimes wake up in a panic to see your evil eyes, it turns my stomach to think I was some sort of prize. You and your buddy know who you are, I was not just some dumb girl you doped up at the bar.

My mother had died only 3 months before which was why I avoided my home and worked swing shifts. My best friend wasn't talking to me because of decisions I continued to make with the fake confidence that I was unstoppable. I avoided my dad because it just meant more awkward conversation and not healing from the void my mother left.

So that night, I was raped, terminated, and devalued while already feeling worthless and lost. That night, I was alone. That night is what I think of as the worst night of my life.

Why Does this Mean I'm Mediocre?

I recently read this blog. I felt a little guilty that I didn't immediately resonate with the author, because I have always been a dreamer. I will admit I never thought I would change the world, but I had these ideas that I wanted to share. I wanted to share these visions with anyone who would listen.

I had a 5 year plan, another 5 year plan because I thought planning would help get me where I thought (at the time) I was to be.

What I didn't plan for was life experience to change how I valued my time, life and work. However, I refuse to say my life is merely mediocre. I am still a dreamer. I have not given up my inspiration or idealism. What I did find was a deeper meaning and value in myself.

I found that I value my time more than what others did including employers. I have learned some amazing lessons over the years, a great deal of them I learned the hard way.

I learned that my time spent doing things like interacting with others about self-perception and their personal perspectives was rewarding to me intellectually and it brought great value to my life. I also learned that listening to my daughters play with legos at a small table next to my computer bureau was also just as valuable.

I guess I feel my life will always be more than mediocre because it is based on choices I have made and experiences I have survived. Maybe this is why I have come to the conclusions I have.

My husband is not perfect, our relationship is a struggle but we still share some amazing moments with our children and our families whenever we can. As much as I hate the weather where we live, I am grateful that I have so many people around me that I love and treasure.

The more years I live, the more I find I appreciate the small things, just as much as the big things. Each night I go to bed, wishing for a better day tomorrow. Nothing about that is mediocre and that doesn't mean I don't appreciate what I have been blessed with or cursed with. I have overcome a lot of hardships and because of those experiences I am more grateful for pure moments of absolute bliss. 

There is nothing mediocre about living life as it occurs and being satisfied by the simple beauty of it all.