Tag: hard times

When They Hurt, I Hurt

On By AngeliaIn In the lives of children, Into the Blender we go- Wee!9 Comments

I have four beautiful daughters. One is my blood, two are step, and one is grand.

All my Girls - 2018

There is something to be said about being a mother and having children. All the sudden your heart is walking outside your body. You will do anything to protect them – from heartbreak, disappointment, loss, fear, and confusion. This need to cover them from darkness is so fierce it’s hard.

So hard to let them go and watch them understand the ways of the world – some of the worst ways. The super hard ways. How people will disappoint them. Friends will turn on them. Troubles will come and go. When there are rights and wrongs, there is indifference too. Some whys we will never understand.

Your heart explodes because they are learning the way you learned. The hard way. The harsh way. The people will let you down way.

And I still want to fight for them. So what if the world can be cruel. I am still on their side. I will fight when they are hurt. When they hurt, I hurt.

My bonus girls are now 12 and 14.

Sisters - 2018

I know. I know. Just yesterday they were 2 and 4. So wittle. So chubby. So very magical. And now they are dang near grown. No more chub chub cheeks or a thousand questions. But still my kids. So you know what I mean when I say I don’t want them to hurt. This is the age when the hard truth of adulthood starts to slap them around a bit. Junior High and High School? Talk about waking up from being an innocent kid. Those are the years!

And this December was another harsh jar to their childhood. Their mother disappeared for 30 days. She did not tell the girls much. She only talked to my husband. I heard her say, “It sucks. It’s bad timing.” But that’s it. No I am sorry. No forgive me. No explanation to the girls other than she was in the “hospital”. She wasn’t. We knew that from reverse number look up. But no way to tell the girls about that. It’s not our place especially since we were not even supposed to know. But it is what it is.

Except.. this hurt my children. My bonus babes. My sweet, loving girls. To have their mother vanish. During Christmas and New Year’s no less.

Now don’t get me wrong. My husband and I loved it. We got to have an unexpected month long visit. Our whole family together and during the holidays! So this was fantastic for us.

But….what about the girls? Young girls that need their Mom. Yeah, Dad is great. Stepmom is nice. But your mom is your MOM. And I know exactly what it’s like to have her gone. It hurts. When they hurt, I hurt.

December was joyful. December was awful. I felt more sick for the girls as each day passed (even into January). I still have pains for them. But I know they are young and they heal quick. She is back and all is the way it was before (I guess).

She hasn’t really talked to us about it. She came back and that was it. I guess I am having a harder time getting over it than they are. I don’t need to know all the gritty details. I don’t even want to know. I just want to hear an I’m Sorry.

I’m sorry I hurt my children. I am sorry I had to do what I had to do. I am sorry I can’t open up about it. I am sorry I have to treat you like strangers.

And what about Thank you? Thank you for keeping the girls. Thank you for caring for them when I couldn’t. Thank for being there at Christmas. Thank your for holding them while they cried on New Years Day for their mother.

I know. I am asking too much. Demanding too much. I have no right.

But someone has to stand for these children. Someone has to fight.

I will always be there for my family. For my kids. For my husband.
The Family 2018

I can’t be sorry for that……and I won’t. Because this isn’t about me or how I want someone to act. This is about two precious girls who shouldn’t have to feel abandoned.

I’m not getting married

On By AngeliaIn Love and Light, The good the bad and the beautiful, Timeless Treasures29 Comments

…again,” she said firmly, eyes flashing. “I mean never. I am not doing this again. Going through all this stuff. The end, after twenty-two years. Mark my words. It’s not worth it.”

The discussion dashed out, dancing angrily in the air, walking with us on the park path. She said it with such conviction. Not a shred of doubt in her voice. I had to look at her face to see the hardness in her eyes and the set of her mouth.

I sighed inside. It’s not what I wanted for her. Me, who divorced twice. Me, who knew the journey she was choosing included a darker path than the one we walked toward the woods. Destination agony. The light as far away as it was now, and just as hard to reach. The bitter battle boiling as she marched towards the front lines – divorce.

The trail became somber and dark. The only sound, a whispering of our foot scraps, a slight huff of our breath. I silently pondered what to say – how to say – I’m sorry…….

Or I’m happy for you…..

No words seem right in these situations. Especially when you are talking with someone you love.

I am responsible for this. Wasn’t she following my lead? Didn’t I make this divorced life seem fun and interesting? Hadn’t I given her all my books on self-help? Was it the novel, Eat, Love, and Pray by Elizabeth Gilbert, infecting her need to find herself? Journey off to Italy to banish the demons, meditate with a guru in India, and be whatever it took, to finally find her happiness. But would she? Would she really? Because it would be mighty easy to just be bitter.

To hate men for the rest of her life. She wanted a lover in her future with no strings attached. HER. Mrs. Goody two-shoes of all time. A so-called life of fling with someone who wouldn’t commit, couldn’t commit, nor love her. Is that what she thought she deserved? To be smacked with inconsideration, and heartlessness. This was her freedom?

She was certain this is what she wanted. “I’m not getting married again – ever” her speech stabbed the air sharply and just as quickly lost its punch.

“It’s too painful.”

Like knocking back a shot of suffering, she went on with a little too much cheer. She explained the joys of a single apartment. The endless trips to IKEA. The privacy. She would live right next to the hospital she worked at. The security guards she knew could keep an eye on her, and tell her which apartments had the lowest crime. She couldn’t WAIT. But still….it was so different. She had always been caretaker, and home keeper. She was brilliant at it. Entertaining, nourishing children, tables over flowing with guests, country crafts being made, and calendars full of nonstop events. To go from Susie Homemaker to the spinster aunt? It just didn’t seem right.

My heart broke for her decision. Not because I didn’t want her to not marry again, but because even though I was fresh from divorce, I didn’t feel hate towards marriage. I knew it could be a glorious thing with people who jointly wanted to work at it. That sought God above all else – without selfishness, without blame, or worthlessness. That chose to sacrifice for a love that fills every hole. But she was tender. A fresh shoot, so fragile and she needed me to listen and to understand her angst.

I felt it was my fault. She admired my strength and felt weak in that towering shadow. But no, it wasn’t me. It was her life. Her choice. All I could do was support her through what she was going through. Be there with her, through every stinging barb, and every cry. Eventually the darkness would fade away. Eventually the pathway would brighten. Eventually the wounds would heal and there, on the other side, we would meet. In the bright light of sweet peace with arms wide open to welcome her new life.

My dear sister….you glow today and I haven’t even seen you yet. I am standing in that ring of light – so happy for you. I knew you would find your way to your true heart path. I knew, you’d be here as hard as it was. Today, you marry your best friend and soul mate. Today, a man opens his heart to you after being scared and widowed for long, long time. Today, you become step mom to young Leighann and beautiful Chelsea; a critically ill special needs child that only someone like you would accept and love as your own. Today, we celebrate the light in you both, that found its way from the gloom of despair and devastation – from loss and divorce – to the wonders of amazing love. Today, we celebrate………………………again!

“Success in marriage is much more than finding the right person; it is a matter of being the right person”

-Anonymous

Congratulations Roger and Deedy. June 12th, 2010. Stay tuned for photographs through the tears. You might even recognize the flower girls.

Prologue: A healthy reflection post

On By AngeliaIn Life is what you make it.Leave a comment
In the depths of winter, I finally found there was in me an invincible summer.– Albert Camus, author
             


Stepping closer to the light at the end of the tunnel

 Hard times are inevitable–death, financial struggle, family problems, the loss of a job, depression–all of these tough times are just seasons. Abraham Lincoln once said, “This too shall pass,” and you can apply it to both the good times and the bad. The thrill of a new relationship won’t endure forever, just as the grief of losing a loved one won’t either. So endure the hardships of life, knowing that time will eventually heal your wounds and you will make it through. Think about what struggles have occurred in your life and what they taught you. No matter how dim the light at the end of the tunnel seems, it is still a light. Each day is an opportunity for that light of hope to get closer and closer, until eventually the clouds above your head part and you feel the forgotten sunshine on you again. Overcoming pain makes you stronger and better equipped to handle the next valley.

 

I title this a prologue because the next blog entry I will post is a personal misery. I don’t particularly want to post a storm without a rainbow at the end.

But typically, this is how I live my life, knowing that with time, the dark toil of suffering has a dim light that grows bigger. That every lesson I learned the hard way, shaped my soul to be who I am. Every tear I shed,  gave my heart another layer of depth. Every heart wrench, softened me in just the right place. Every nerve wracked, brought me closer to the strength inside.

With my head held high, I tell you, I’ve made awful mistakes. I am no where near perfect, not then,  and certianly not now. I can bravely put my whole self, not just the good side, for all the world to see.  I am proud of what I’ve been through. I am proud to know God has a purpose for me.  I am proud of the good and the bad. I was wonderfully made to serve and understand so much more than so many others.

Shine. Endure. Know. You are one struggle closer to a better you, a more complete you, a more blessed you, a you that will astound…… even YOU.

The truth is that one day you will look back and see how all the pieces fit together. And how your life has been a complete and utter success.

 Be invincible!