Compassion

The lesson at worship service today was all about having compassion for people...not just simple concern, but real spiritual compassion. I have to be honest. This is not an area where I can say that I exhibit that kind of compassion. I was talking with my husband about it this afternoon because I really do want to be compassionate towards people. For example, a neighbor of mine walked by me in obvious pain and I asked her what was wrong. She stated that she had a headache and I immediately offered her something for it. Then today, she made a very rude remark to my husband. I am sorry but it made me angry and my thing is that once I get angry I have a really hard time forgiving, much less forgetting. I struggle to forgive even the smallest of infractions. My husband thinks that this is because I have been taken advantage of so many times in my life that when my fragile level of trust with someone is broken I simply cannot get past it.
I certainly have my share of hurts and insecurities in my life. I struggled through a difficult marriage for fifteen years that left me broken in more ways than one. Trusting people on more than a superficial level is very hard for me. I am perfectly well aware that there are people who have suffered infinitely harder things than I have and survived with grace and dignity and compassion for others still intact. I question why I cannot be that way. I do not want to be an uncaring person. I want to reach out to others in kindness without expecting a return...but also without fearing that I will somehow be ill used.
I am going to try, really try to work on this. I will try to be a more compassionate person. I will try to let go of this futile sense of injustice and anger that simmers just beneath the surface of my emotions. I will try not to let other people's imperfections stand in the way of my own spiritual growth. I have enough of my own to work on.

Fair Weather Friends

Over the summer when I was in a crisis point situation I really found out who my friends were and let me tell you there were not many. As a matter of fact only one person responded to my need and it was someone I did not even ask for help. Do you ever get tired of people with fake smiles and false promises who claim to be your friend but somehow they are never there when you need them? I got tired of it. Real tired of it. I deleted quite a few people from my friends that day and I do not regret a single one.
Now I know we are supposed to forgive and forget. To overlook those small imperfections in people and try to see the good in everyone. I was raised in the South. That means as a lady you are never rude, never confrontational, you never ever speak up for yourself, you just keep taking people's crap with a smile on your face. Well I don't think so. Not ever again. I can be a kind, compassionate, strong Southern lady without that kind of nonsense.

Changing Weather Changing Life

I always have a hard time in the fall emotionally and I don't know why because I love fall. I think the leaves changing color are beautiful, I love the cooler weather and the smell of wood smoke in the mornings, I love pumpkins and apples and scarecrows, and I love decorating the house for Halloween and Thanksgiving. All this week I have just been so sad, sitting here feeling all alone in a house full of people, trying to hold back tears that I have no way of explaining, if anyone even noticed they were there. Fall in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia is so heartbreakingly lovely I would not want to be anywhere else at this time of year.
What is it then that makes me feel so alone and lonely? At 48 I am not a young woman anymore. My last few babies are growing up fast and I have grandchildren all around me to remind me that my years of being a mom are quickly coming to an end. I have loved having a house full of children all these years but it isn't the same when it becomes a house full of young adults doing their own thing and living their own lives. I know that it was something of an accomplishment to get all these younguns raised but why do I feel that so much of life just passed me by?
I am writing this blog for myself. No one else is reading it. I guess this is just an outlet for me to try and express some of my feelings. Lord knows I have no one to talk to and even if I tried they wouldn't understand. After all no one has it easy these days, at least not in my world. Can't find decent jobs that pay enough money to live on, hard to keep food on the table, hard times for everyone. I have a place to live and food to eat and we can just barely keep the wolf from the door so who am I to complain.
So this is what I wish for my kids to know about me. I loved them as best I could, provided for them and took care of them all the days of my life and suddenly they didn't need me anymore. I wish I could live inside my memories of the days when they were all little and clamoring around me with so much joyful chaos I could barely think. I look at pictures of those days gone by and I realize that my life is so empty now...all the color is gone all the happiness all the tumultuous ruckus that filled up my heart and my soul. I just honestly do not know what to do with myself.

One Step Forward Two Steps Back

So here we are back where we started. I know that we are lucky we had a place to come back to so I sound really bad to regret it. We tried so desperately hard to hang onto our own house but we just couldn't do it. The economy clamped down around us and just didn't let go. So we packed it all up and came back to my family's house with my mom and my older sons. I don't think anyone is happy about it. My husband feels like he let us down, as if he failed in his job as the man of the house, to provide for me and the boys and take care of us. My two youngest sons are not happy because they have to share a room and there are strangers living here who moved in to help my son pay the rent while we were gone for a year. My almost seventeen year old hates it here, all he can talk about is getting a job, saving his money, and moving out. I'm not happy. The situation here is far from ideal and it is hard to get used to after I had my own home for a year to clean, and decorate, and live as I pleased without having to worry about anyone else. Don't get me wrong. I love my mother, I love my sons. I am happy to be back where I can see them and spend time with them. We combined forces to make it easier for all of us to live. I have worked my butt off in the space that I have to make things homey and nice for everyone. Why then do I feel so sad?

Crazy Hazy Days of Summer

Summer is here at last in southwestern Virginia, with hot humid days and lots of thunderstorms. I am not too sure if we will try to have any celebrations, although my son has invited us over for a cook-out at his house. Money is so tight right now. My husband is working part-time and growing a garden with a friend of his. He is really looking forward to having fresh veggies and even some cantalopes. My food budget has been reduced and I have to figure out how to shop for the long month of July so that we do not run out of things we need. I thought I was long past having to budget down to the penny, guess not. My younger sons actually complain about having meat to eat...I am thinking to myself, do they know how many people would be grateful for the kind of meals I serve them every day. I know it is my fault, I have spoiled them. Spoiled them to where they have certain expectations and when money falls short I have to scramble not to disappoint them. They drink far too much sweet tea, and I plan to start insisting on water between meals. For example, I serve crockpot roast about once a week. It is a very simple roast with new potatoes and some seasonings. My thirteen year old son told me he was tired of having roast...and chicken...and pork chops. But when I asked well then what is it that you would prefer to eat, he had no answer. I do try to mix the meals up as much as I can, varying the recipes so that it doesn't seem like the same old thing all the time. My husband works hard every day to try to make our dollars stretch to pay the bills but I feel that I work equally hard. Every single day I prepare breakfast, lunch, and dinner, wash dishes all day long, make tea at least twice, I do two or three loads of laundry every day,keep my two ice trays filled and my bucket of ice in the freezer full, clean the house, take out the trash, and I can't even remember what else I do all day but let me tell ya what I am getting zero appreciation. I know I know. Mother's should not expect to be appreciated. It's the job right? I don't mind the job most days. I take pleasure in keeping my house presentable and all those little chores done. I think I need a break. I know better than to ask for a vacation, but a break would be nice. A day or two where I didn't have to run around doing things all day long, could read books and play on my computer and take long bubble baths every night. Ahh well, I reckon it can't hurt to dream. Happy Summer everyone.

Mothers and Daughters

With Father's Day fast approaching I suppose I have chosen an awkward time to think about my relationship with my two daughters. The thing is they never had a relationship with their father until they were adults and it is a rocky one at best. I must also admit, if I am being honest, that my choice of a husband and their step-father for fifteen years left much to be desired. Still, I don't think any of my children were very happy when I remarried their father. He really was a virtual stranger to them, and they only knew of the bad things that had caused us to divorce in the first place.
When my oldest daughter reached her teenage years she already had a rebellious temperament and she was determined to do what she wanted, when she wanted, in spite of my best efforts to stop her. We had so many arguments. My husband at that time did not help, he only managed to make things worse. I feel that it was really my fault that my daughter was pregnant at fifteen. She was constantly looking for love and attention from all the wrong places and she loved telling me how I was never there for her when she needed me. It broke my heart a million times and more.
So I set all my hopes on my younger daughter. She was so much calmer, so much more pleasing in her attitudes. No doubt, she was very spoiled and we all went out of our way to make her smile and be happy. So when she started down the very same road her older sister had followed I just couldn't believe it. This was the child who was going to realize her every dream. How could she throw away her very promising future to have a baby at eighteen and get married to a young man that had not proven himself to be very reliable at anything except causing trouble?
It seemed to me that I had lost both of my girls. Gone were the dreams of having an ideal mother-daughter relationship where we shared little secrets and talked about everything. Their teenage years had been so full of drama and discord it was hard to believe that we could ever get past all of the hard feelings. Always feeling that everything was my own fault, that I had not been a good mother to my daughters in spite of my best efforts.
I still do not have that dream relationship with either one of my daughters, but it is slowly becoming less distant and perhaps a bit closer. I revel in my grandchildren and the joy that they bring to my life. I try to let my daughters know that in spite of it all they have a mother who loves them very much and wants only the very best for them. I wonder if I had tried too hard with my daughters, wanting only to protect them and keep them from making my mistakes all over again, and instead pushing them far from me. The only answer I have is that I do not know. I know that children, daughters, grow up and live their own lives. I know that maybe someday they will have the same perspective that I have now, knowing that mistakes were made, but only out of love and care. I know that I can still cherish those two little red-haired girls, so different, yet so much alike. I know that I will always love my daughters more than they know.

Raindrops are Like Tears

Ok so almost anyone who knows me is aware that I suffer from chronic depression. Some days I do fairly well, other days I find myself so deep down in a well of despair I don't think I will be able to climb back out again. I've been having one of my down times and I have not been coping well. Life has not been easy lately. I told someone today it's like some kind of cosmic joke, not only can we not get ahead we can't even get caught up. The expenses keep getting higher and the money keeps getting lower and the ends don't meet in the middle anymore. I try to get up every day and I try to get through the day and it gets harder every day. I know I'm bad when giving up seems easier than trying any more...the only things that keep me hanging by my very slender thread are the responsibilities I have to my younger children and grandchildren. This is not a pity party, I'm not asking anyone to hand me a kleenex.A little understanding from the ones who are closest to me would be nice but I have come to accept that for the most part that is not going to happen. I just find myself feeling so very alone and I wonder what will happen if it ever gets to where I can't tell myself I have to hang on for the babies any more.