Friendly Strangers

I am making a goal, to write a blog a day for a month.  As those of you who read my blog know, my siblings and I no longer have contact with our biological father.  This honestly isn't our choice, but his.  We all hope deep down to have some sort of communication with him, but as of now that isn't possible.  So my way of coping is to look at the blessings from my father and four of them truly have saved my life at different points.  My siblings.  We may talk daily, weekly or sometimes monthly, but no matter, our hearts are always connected.  I once described the love between my all of us (including my mom)  as a root system that is so gnarled and interconnected that you can't pry it apart, it's unbreakable. 

My siblings are my support system and they have been pressuring me to write more and even publish.  I think they know me better than myself and have helped to plant the seeds of a long time dream of mine to write a book and possibly include some of my photography.  I am not sure when or if that will happen, but in the mean time I need to at least make the commitment to try.  So this goal, a blog a day is for them.  I love you all so much!

This first blog is dedicated to my family and to a new member of the club that we all belong to, called the I don't know a stranger, club.  Personally I can talk to the wall or just about anyone you put in front of me (my husband can attest to this) and apparently, my son Max is following in his momma's footsteps.  

Max and his new friend at the girl's soccer game.

Today we were checking out at Target. Max was just sitting there and out of the blue pointed to the sales lady at the next counter and said, "thats my friend."  She glanced our way, looking surprised at this declaration, but soon played along and acted as if they knew each other well.  As we were leaving they said their good-byes, but he wasn't done making friends.  At his cajoling, we stopped at  Starbucks on our way out to get him a milk.  As we were paying he turned to the couple behind us and said, "those are my friends."  They too looked caught off guard, but also quickly played along and asked him about the car he was holding.  He made sure to inform them it was "an ambulance."  Both of them laughed and asked him how old he was.  "Two," he proudly informed his new "friends."  They commented to me how smart he seemed, I smiled and took the compliment.  

I agree with them, he is smart and not just because he knows his shapes, how to count and that a truck just isn't truck, but an ambulance.  Max is smart because he knows one simple, yet very important thing, life is much better if you are friendly and treat others kindly, no matter who they are.  Unfortunately I, like many, have had to deal with my share of bullies, people just so miserable that they can't be anything but mean and judgmental.  It's been a process to realize I can't change these people, but I can hopefully raise my children to be the opposite of them; friendly, kind and not afraid to call complete strangers, friends.

One additional side comment about my biological father.  He too is a writer, a genius with his words, using them both to eloquently bolster and demolish a person's psyche.  As I have dealt with the negative people in my life who continue to try and damage my spirit, I have been tempted to share this in order to bring light to their true nature.  However, while that day may come, I am a beacon for my children and an example of how to not only act, but also react to the way others treat me.  As my husband has said more than once, just because they say it, doesn't make it true.  I will take my father's love for writing as a blessing and leave his injurious words (as well as other's) behind.  This is my story and only I can truly narrate the path I have taken as well as the journey yet ahead.      

Dreaming about Grandpa

Last night when I went to bed I was feeling sad because I was missing my Savannah and Sam. Trying to help myself feel better, I felt under my pillow for my Grandpa's Rosary and it wasn't there. Remembering I had just changed my sheets and put it up I got out of bed to retrieve it. As soon as I had it in my hand, a comfortable peace surrounded me allowing me to fall asleep.

A little back story on my Grandpa's Rosary... He passed away in January of 2010. This was particularly hard, because I was going through a divorce and had just moved (December 2009) to Washington. In addition, I had just found out I was pregnant.  Things were quite stressful and I was emotionally and physically drained.  Jerry (my now husband) was kind enough to watch the girls so I could fly to Chicago to meet up with my cousins and attend my Grandpa's funeral in Indiana.  It was a bittersweet weekend.  It was wonderful to see my family and for all of us cousins to be together for the first time in years, but very hard to say good-bye to the one true father figure that had been there for me my whole life.  In addition, it was heartbreaking to see my Grandma so sad.  One magical moment was when all of the cousins surrounded my Grandma in front of my Grandpa's casket and willed our love to heal her pain and hurt.  On Tuesday after the funeral all of us cousins were told to go pick something special from my Grandpa's Office.  I was happy to get his elephant, something he had as long as I could remember.  From there my cousins and I headed back to Chicago so they could drop me at the airport and just as we were leaving my Cousin Christi asked me if I wanted this Rosary.  I said yes and took the black beaded Italian Rosary and held it in my hand the whole way to the airport.  We didn't hit any traffic, which was a miracle and after I made it home safe and sound, my faith in the Rosary began.

Ever since then, I have spent most of my nights with my Grandpa's Rosary under my pillow.  As I progressed in my pregnancy I held the Rosary tighter.  I brought it with me to a late night Doctor visit when I began to have complications in my third month and when my belly grew I would lay it across my stomach so my Grandpa could watch over the new life I was growing.   When Max was born early and was in the NICU, the nurse hung his Rosary in his incubator.  After we brought him home I hung "Grandpa" (as I now called the Rosary) between my bed and Max's bassinet.  

"Grandpa" has gone with me all sorts of places, on Vacation, to visit family and even on my Honeymoon.  I joked with my Grandma and told her I took "Grandpa" on a Jet Ski in the Caribbean Ocean.  My Grandpa always meant so much to me and I feel that he is with me through his Rosary, as silly as that might sound.

One regret I have is that my Grandpa never met Max.  I whispered to him that I was pregnant when I said my good-byes, but that wasn't the same.  I was lucky enough to get to go back and visit my grandma last June and introduce her to Max, but sadly, there was no Grandpa there to laugh at his little quirks and to watch him share food with Grandma.

Grandpa and Savannah Summer 2006

Grandpa and Saxton

This is where my dream I had last night comes in.  My dreams are frequent and unbelievably eclectic, strange and sometimes very intense.  I often wake up and can't quite comprehend what the message was and most times, there is a fine line between a dream and nightmare, but not this morning.  Today when I woke up, I just felt happy.  I can't remember all the details, but one I do remember quite vividly,  was that I was on a path and had somehow gotten separated from Max.  I turned around to look for him and he was quite a ways back walking away from me holding my Grandpa's hand.  At first I tried to get a picture, but couldn't.  Then I just ran to them and scooped up Max in my arms, hugging him tightly.  Then both Max and I kissed my Grandpa's cheek.  It was so real, I could even feel his whiskers.  My sweet Grandpa.  I have dreamed about him several times lately, but this dream was my favorite.  He had finally gotten to meet my Max and I was able to kiss my Grandpa one more time.

I don't know the exact relationship between dreams and heaven, but I believe that sometime last night the two intertwined.  My Grandpa was with me again, loving me, meeting his youngest great-grandson and I was loving him back.


I love you Grandpa to the moon and stars and to heaven and back!    

A post regarding my biological father.

On behalf of every man

Looking out for every girl

You are the God and the weight of her world

So fathers, be good to your daughters

Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers be good to your daughters too.

John Mayer-Daughters

The hardest part of being at a wedding, or watching one on television is the father-daughter dance.  Every time my chest tightens and I bite my lip and struggle to fight back the tears, to no avail, they always come.  I wanted that.  I wanted to have the opportunity to dance in the arms of my father while listening to the lyrics of a song exemplifying a daddy's love for his little girl and to have those words mean something.  I imagine every daughter wants that.  

The prompt for this blog was a phone call I received a few days ago from my sister Kathleen.  She had gotten a letter in response to her Christmas Card, from our biological father.  I am not going to share the details, only that it was hurtful and ultimately a sign to not only her, but all of my siblings and I that he really had no intentions of having a relationship with us.  Not only that, but that he must really be in a negative space to feel the need to respond in such a condescending way.

What he doesn't realize is that there is nothing he can say to us that we haven't already thought of.  One thing we all learned very young, was how to break ourselves down.  We are all our toughest critic.  Knowing this, my response to the letter was that of a protective big sister.  Initially I was angry at the hurt he caused my beautiful, kind, sweet Kathleen, at the hurt he has caused all of my sisters, my brother, my mother and myself. Then that anger turned to sorrow, I felt sorry for him, for all of us.  What a loss in his life to not have a relationship with all five of his biological children, as well as our families.  

I told Kathleen that she should share the letter with my siblings.  Since he had cut off communication with all of us a little over three years ago, we had all attempted to contact him; a call on his birthday, a message to announce a wedding, the birth of a new baby and received no response.  Finally, after this letter, we had a tangible grasp at his mental state and could now give up hope that he had any intention of deciding to be in our lives.  In a way this letter was a blessing, the old adage:

"Waiting is worse than knowing. 

 Grief rends the heart cleanly; 

that it may begin to heal; 

waiting shreds the spirt."   

Morgan Llywelyn

The ironic thing is that we all wanted him to come around, all wished for a return phone call or a surprise visit.  My siblings and I are not perfect, but one characteristic that we all manifest, almost to fault at times, is our impressive ability to forgive and love.  I often imagined my father showing up on my doorstep and me inviting him in and introducing him to his youngest grandson, showing him how he walks just like his grandpa.  I even had a dream the other night that I looked up and there he was sitting on a bench.  At first we looked at each-other, like strangers, but tentatively we began to speak to one another.  I woke up as I was introducing him to his grandchildren.

My parent's are divorced and my mom has since re-married (they celebrated their thirteenth wedding anniversary this past August).  We all love him and have embraced him as our "dad."  However, I believe this is a hard concept for my biological father. But, what he doesn't realize, is that there is enough love for everyone.  I too am divorced and have remarried.  My Ex and I had three gorgeous daughters and a handsome son together.  Over the past few years my new husband and I have navigated our way through the uncharted territory of our roles as step-parents (he has a son from a previous relationship).  Ultimately, we emphasize the fact that they have the benefit of two sets of parents that love them and that there is always enough love to go around.  Both my husband and I have no desire to replace the biological parent in our children's lives, just to add more love and support.

http://picturesquotes.com/why-a-daughter-needs-a-dad/

One thing I have learned from growing up in a dysfunctional home and dealing with the emotional heartache of not having my dad there when I needed him, is the effect it had on me when making life choices.  I am not here to blame my father for my mistakes.  However, I do wonder sometimes where I would be if I wasn't always running away from the painful memories and events of my childhood and looking for love in all the wrong places?  I greatly take this into consideration when dealing with my own children, especially my oldest daughter who has begun to navigate the world of romantic relationships and love.  The most important thing I want her to know is that she is always loved.  No matter what happens, no matter what choices she makes or mistakes, she and all her siblings are always welcome to come home and I will be waiting with open arms.  My love is unconditional.  It is the one promise that I will never break.

There is a special relationship meant to be between a father and daughter.  He is meant to be her first love, to show her how she deserves to be treated.  I also believe that the relationship example set by parents, forever imprints on a child.  One of the main reasons that I am divorced, is that I wanted to break the cycle of disfunction.  I wanted to put an end to the unsuitable environment that my Ex and I were providing for our four children.  When I was young, I prayed for peace in my home.  I hated the fact that my friends were scared to come over and I had to walk on eggshells in order to survive.  This environment is unacceptable.  Children deserve better, a loving home is a parent's ultimate responsibility. 

As I finish this post I wonder if given the opportunity, would I forgive my father, would I allow him into my life again?  I am not sure.  I think for now I will concentrate on all the good in my life, all those that I love and love me back.  As I attempt to raise my own children I will try to learn from my parent's.  I know that I have made mistakes and will continue to do so, but I hope that as long as my children know that I love them, we can make it through anything.  I will do my best and most importantly, I will never give up on my babies, no matter what.  That is a pain that I have lived with in my own life, and it is one that pray my children will never have to feel.

I love you Savannah, Sam, Sage, Saxton, Brayden and Max to the moon and stars and back.