An Invincible Summer - A Woman's Journey

My youngest texted me the other day to say she wanted to facetime in an hour. She lovingly let me know it was nothing bad, just something she wanted to share. When we finally get connected, my Gigi said that she had a client that was processing so she called her Pop and asked him to come over and visit for awhile. They went next-door and got a coffee and then went to the salon's back room to chat. She says to me, "Look what he gave me." and points to a necklace that is a tiny wrench with a little gemstone. She smiles and says that it doesn't matter what her father gives her, that she loves it no matter what because she knows he puts thought in to it. She puts that wrench right around her neck to show him how much she loves it. This girl is so tender with that man. I do not believe that she has one ounce of resentment about what happened. She accepts, has forgiven and loves him completely. Amazing! The subject of our trans daughter comes up in their conversation. He sa...

My father had come and gone from our home a number of times before leaving for good. My poor mother endured much, aside from being left alone to manage the 4 or 5 of us that were still home, she never learned how to drive and hadn't worked. Our father left us with a wagon, but not any wagon. It was some kind of specialized Chrysler, big engine, dual carburetors, 10 miles to the gallon. Nobody could work on it but him and some specialized guy 30 miles away. My 3rd sister was doing driving at the time. Can you imagine, a 16 year old, in charge of all the family driving, given a car that could beat every single car it came up against? According to her, she knows this to be true. The fact that he left us and opted not to support us in any tangible way didn't help that situation. I remember a trip to see my grandmother in Palm Springs. It got late and my sister went to turn the lights on but, lo and behold, the fancy electrical system that operated the "tilt up" pan...

I watch my daughter do the same things I did. I watch her think love means trying to fix. I see her risk herself and her possible future for something the man is fixated on Her empathy prods her to do things she really doesn't want to or shouldn't. I see her want her daddy back, he was once a good father. Instead she gets an addict who is wholly selfish. It puts space between us. Words are quieted...things get left unsaid. Secrets, spawned by shame, grow. It breaks my heart but all I can do is love and prove myself worthy of the the secrets.

There are six of us...we are a unit but separate. We are so similar but so different. Pam - one short term marriage once a very long time ago. Dog and horse lover (all animals really), introvert, smoker, intensely tough and serious, liberal, guarded and independent. A tender heart covered with scars and crust. Childless (except for the pets), amazing work ethic, loyal. Sally - married twice. The first one was long and he was fairly horrible but she did a great job the second time around. Mother of two boys, grandmother to 6. I once was very close to her but not as much now. Wound tight, extrovert, liberal, remembers every bad thing that you ever did, nurse, confusing to me. Great work ethic, loyal. Laurie - still married to her high school sweetheart. I often wonder how she got it so right. Thoughtful, very introverted, over time has become a great mom to her three kids, grandmother of 5, I would go to her with any problem and know she would consider it carefully, looking at all...

Early morning praising and thanking and mediation starts the day out perfectly.  Whether life is running smoothly or if the road is rocky and hard, my day is always better if I ground myself, first thing, in gratitude. The mornings I forget, or those mornings where I am in so much turmoil that I just don't, lack something special. Clarity and a joyfulness that comes by just being authentically grateful for the life I have been given is missing. As I make my thankful list, I try hard to not constantly list the obvious......I am consistently grateful for each of my children and the roof over my head. The comfortable bed I am laying in is often the first on the list. I love my bed, with its abundance of pillows cushioning my curves and pointy places and my aches and pains. After that, I try to be aware of the many things I take for granted...my yard with its crazy array of palms and ferns and tropical this and that, my garage that was suitable enough to house my oldest boy ...

I can love my Secret Keeper again. It has happened slowly and, sometimes, begrudgingly, but there you are. The other day we needed to meet at the Realtors to sign the paper work to sell our home. We got out of our respective cars and walked towards each other. My heart softened for the poor guy; for who he once was and for who he has become. He has abused his body so badly and it shows. This guy who once worked tirelessly was limping toward me, so heavy from the medications he now relies on to have even a semblance of normalcy. A man who was a doting father and dedicated husband.  How must he feel now? In the past few months, I could only care how I felt or how my kids must feel but not him. He was the culprit and I was the victim. No longer. Although he must live with the results of his actions, I now see that he was a victim of a brutal disease, left untreated because he gave into the urges and could not ask for help. NAMI helped me see him in a different light. Being able to d...