It's interesting the way that life works. God seems, as my Mimi is always fond of saying, "To have a good sense of humor." I don't necessarily think I would call it good...I call it more along the lines of sarcastic...untimely...and if I may go so far, sometimes, cruel. As an adult who is experiencing the pangs of coming to terms with certain flaws about myself that, unless they are righted, will cause grievances for my future...including my marriage and the children of mine and of theirs and so forth.
It's always been a strange thought to plan your life around lives that are yet to be formed, but that's really the case for all of us. I seem to be dwelling upon this topic of children, be it that we have none right now, and that has been entirely by choice at this point in our lives. We have our precious Diego, our Boxer mix. I love this dog with a protectiveness that sometimes scares even me, but secures my suspicions about myself as a loving mother. Now, I retrace those steps in saying I would be loving as a mother...I just always questioned my abilities, I think. You see, as I feel most families truly are in America (however unknowingly), I grew up in a very dysfunctional household. So dysfunctional in fact, that there are parts of that family to whom after being together close to five years, my husband still has (nor will he ever unless by a miracle of God) met. Strange isn't it? A person I have known longer than I've been alive (I am the baby of the family after all), it feels odd to be loved and to love my husband more than any of these other people. But...then again...I suppose that's why people are capable of making babies with their partners.
Ah yes, I do digress from my usual state of sarcasm and good humor, but that could also be due in part to the fact I am now consuming my 2nd vodka/diet coke mix of the evening and lost in my own dark thoughts. Whatever the reason for my state of odd discombobulation, I know I'm doing the right thing by sharing them in the most forgiving form of communication: writing. And I suppose that's really where I was going with this entire strange exert. Communicating is the key to righting all wrongs in this life. To fix a fight. To feel intimate. To show true, deep love to another. To be empathetic to someone. To forgive. To simply feel accepted. The list could continue for miles, but without communicating in some form, none of these things can happen. Things...more often than not...lacking communication...fall apart.
This brings me to a story my Mimi told me frequently as a child about her and my Papa. They married and she was pregnant with my daddy's older brother when he left for the war. She was only 17 years old and my Papa was gone for over 2 years. This was before the time of frequent phone calls, and really, even frequent mail. During this time she and my Papa wrote one another every, single day and there was a single phone call. My uncle was nearly 1.5 years old when they met. She still has those letters. I've seen them. They have been married 67 years. The day I got married she told me those were some of the most treasured memories because they TRULY communicated in those letters. Because of the distance...lack of physical intimacy...no pointless arguements to simply fight for the sake of fighting...they had to dig deep. Now, I won't lie, I didn't read any of these. They weren't mine. This wasn't by choice (believe me, I'm nosy beyond nosy); she simply guarded and treasured them. Sacred.
It's funny how much I take the communication I have with the people in my life for granted. Including myself. And so I'm rounding it back to where I began. I ceased to communicate with myself. I stopped telling myself the truth and being true to myself. I started shorting myself and saying I was sorry too often ( I still do). I have allowed negative influences, voices, feelings, and emotions to become the primary forces that have caused changes to emerge. And that must cease. Grasping these strangleholds is a necessity. But...despite God's odd sense of humor, there is also something else my Mimi always said about Him that I feel to be true as well: "If He brings you to it...He will bring you through it. And little girl...with everything He has brought you...He thinks you are pretty damn strong."
I'll end with that last statement. Remember...if God has brought you to a situation that seems insurmountable...it's only because He thinks you are bad ass!
