Father's Day

Father's Day. What is there to say about Father's Day? I've never celebrated this day set aside for men who raise children.

I met my father for the first time when I was 17 years old. He lived in the same zip code as my mother and me. I won't go into what that means. Any person with an iota of intelligence can figure that out. He had a family at his address. A wife, three sons and a daughter. Perhaps they gave him cards on Father's Day. I wouldn't know.

After our initial meeting, I spent many years chasing this allusive thing with him. I thought, at the time, I was looking for love. I've since come to understand that love is a verb. It is a thing that is done. It is not something you can hold in your hand, or pull out of a pocket or wallet, or wear like a hat. Why was I searching for this allusive thing as though my father was hiding it behind his back?

Now that I am a parent, I understand a little more about parenting. I didn't learn this from my father. (Perhaps his absence was an influence.) I didn't even learn it all from my mother (who, by the way, served as both mother and father to me -- everyday). No I learned and continue to learn my parenting from my children.

There is no book or pattern really that can provide you with a How to Raise Children Who are Loved method. I have found the best teacher to be living with my sons. I feed them when they are hungry. I clothe them. I scold them when they are wrong. I hug them. By being present, I see what they need. I love them.

Even though I grew up knowing only a father who carried his love for me in his pocket and pulled it out on occasion to take me to dinner, and my sons, so far, only know about a father who put his love in his backpack when we separated, I'm praying that Nigel and Noah will grow up to be fathers who know that love is a verb.

Been curling my hair and making that extra effort to look nice. It is making a difference, if only for me. I feel better because I feel like I look good. Thought I may have met someone interesting, and of course, he turns out to be married to my boss' sister. What are you gonna do? BUT, I still hold out hope on the romance front.

Anyway..
My mother continues to get better everyday. She still complains about pain in her feet due to the nerve damage that was complicated by the chemo treatments. her nails, though, are starting to grow back. She is growing some fine hair. She is even up and doing things around the house. She has been talking about going back to church since the Christmas holiday, but so far she hasn't quite felt like she can make it all the way through a service. BUT, there is progress.

I am starting to feel the "need to get my own place" itch. I've even started looking at some places online. Just dreaming a little dream, you know. Once I've paid for my son's trip to Europe, I can start saving for the summer and for our own place. I'd really like to be able to get our stuff out of storage and move by the end of the summer. That sounds like a TALL order. I'll just have to remember that I can only do what I am able to do. Baby steps.

The Power of Words

I have had an epiphany.

After I apologized to my old boyfriend for what I did to him those many years ago, I remembered what I said to myself then. I told myself, "If you do this, you deserve whatever you get. You will be treated the same way you are treating him, and that is what you deserve." I didn't know then that I was placing myself under a 20 year curse. I have gotten exactly what I told myself I would get. From that moment on I expected to be wronged by any man that came into my life. I expected and accepted that misery would be my company. BUT...

As I released the words of apology to my old friend, I felt a weight falling from my shoulders. I actually remembered those fatal words I put upon myself so long ago. And then I realized, I NEED to forgive myself. I have carried the weight of shame and guilt. I had tied these things around my neck like a shackle. And I have the power to release them.

I accept my apology. I am worthy of so much more than I have accepted. Shame is not my friend and I have nothing to be ashamed of.

"Good-by Shame."

Guilt is not my friend, and I have nothing to feel guilty about.

"Good-bye Guilt."

My friend moved on years ago. I stayed stuck in that place; I no longer want to dwell there.

I forgive me and I am moving on.