Thursday, March 22, 2012

The pause...


So…it’s been a while.  {A Iil long while}… I wanted to write a random post, I think I’m good at those.  The random, where is she going, why is she spilling out arbitrary, haphazard, strange and lengthy she’s-going-nowhere thoughts.
Oh, and run-on sentences…

But then earlier today there was this weight on my chest that I wanted to share.  I was mowing.  It’s that time of year again where lawn day comes once a week and I have these lengthy discussions with myself and several fragment prayers are crafted as well.  I thought about my weight…Haha!  No not my actual poundage, I’m still not quite ready to commit to anything that excludes soda and potato salad.
I mean the weight on my chest, the ache that is squishing my heart into a sputtering mess; the “pause” that I’ve tucked in a box and until today refused to allow it to surface.

One reason I didn’t want to post about it…because my family reads my blog.
They’ll read it…she will read it.

But it’s my blog, my clubhouse away from the real world.  It’s a nice lil handcrafted perch with a handwritten sign that says:

“No boys allowed”
and
“No girls allowed”
and
“Yes, I write and people read it but I really don’t want to talk about it…so no parents or husbands or kids allowed either.  I just write…”
{That last sign was a lil lengthy…I had to use legal sized paper.  wink}

{long sigh}  I just write – to the air, to the open, to the idea of nothing and no one else being out there.  Sometimes I don’t want to talk about things {fine, most of the time} Sometimes I don’t want to hear myself say things out loud.  Sometimes I want to talk about things but don’t because there isn’t a solve for it and the reasoning doesn’t sound like “reason” to me.

With that said {as gracefully as I get}  I DON’T want to talk about this.
I just need to write it down.

Okay?

To protect the innocent I’ve changed the names in this story.  But it’s about me and my oldest daughter.  I’m Bula and she’s Clementine.  {Yes, I just did that.}
Yah, I’m perhaps a lil mad at the world.

So Bula was talking to Clementine the other day and Clementine expressed an interest in a plan that made zero sense to her mother.  Her mother, Bula, being incredibly supportive and strangely nice said something along the lines of “Oh fun…”
Clementine is indecisive and doesn’t know what she wants in life.

THAT’S OKAY.

But her choices are dizzy and not thought out and seem out of place for a world with a completely jacked up economy.  Fine, fine all of that is good and well, she’s still a kid.  Truth be told, Clementine hit the road to early.  Bula wasn’t done raising her, but Clementine decided at a younger age that time was up.
Honestly I feel like I’ve been punished.  There was a split between us that almost cost us our relationship entirely.
Bula now stays completely neutral.  She has to or she might get shut out again.  There are rules and one of my rules blew back in my face.

“Suck it up and be a man”
So I do.

Here’s the deal…after a few minutes of hearing what she wanted to do I finally asked, “You really don’t have any desire to come home at all do you?”
{long…long…looooonnnnggggg pause}
“Uh, to visit…{she put on her hyper voice} Yah totally”
Me:  “To move back to NC.”
“No, I don’t want to come back…”

It was in that moment that I finally allowed myself to acknowledge what I always knew to be true.  I knew she didn’t want to come back.  I knew she wouldn’t.  Hey, she’s a kid, she’s on her own, doing what she wants,
{flying by the seat of her pants} and loving it.

But it was also in this moment that the realization of these other questions came in to mind.  Why on this green earth would you CHOOSE to be completely, entirely and deliberately across the country from your family if it’s not for school, or love or a job?

I never went through that “stage” as my own Mama would put it.  I always lived near my parents.  I ached when we moved cross country from San Diego to DC due to military orders.  After all of that separation we met back up in North Carolina.  It wasn’t that I couldn’t be separated from my family; it’s that I didn’t want to be.

The kids ache every.single.day. for her.
I do as well.
We feel replaced but the ironic thing is we’ve been replaced by absolutely nothing.
Just space.
I don’t understand it.  It all seems hollow now.  Conversations don’t seem to have substance.  Ah crap, I know I really shouldn’t post about this.  More so I don’t want to write about it anymore.  My thoughts are starting to peel and crack and I’m getting mad at the world again.

I think that the worst part is when she moved away I realized I didn’t know her anymore.
Now I don’t think I ever did.
I have five left at home.  I don’t want history to repeat itself.  I don’t want to lose more to indecisive, lighthearted, move across the country, I’m just one of your “girlfriends” type of relationship.

I want a do-over.  I want something real. I want her to prove who she really is; what I raised her to be.  I want loyalty for me and the kids left behind.  I want to understand.

Okay.  I’m done.  I don’t want my family members, including Clementine to feel sorry for me and create a need to bring this up.  It’s not about that, I just needed to put it on my version of paper.  Now it’s out and now I’m done.  It’s not about cutting anyone off it’s about knowing I can’t wrap my brain around her reasoning.  The last battering of conversations that were inspired to make me understand just made me feel like well…crap.  So I vent and move on.
{Just so you know the phrase “vent and mow on” did cross my mind. smirk}

I don’t like emotions and feelings and all of this…I’m shutting down, putting the lid back on.  Just know that I agree to not understand.  I don’t like it, but I have learned to put on my ‘hyper’ voice too.

I work.  I play with my kids I still have at home.  I love my husband and call my parents as often as I can.  I live and I attempt not to judge myself and question the mistakes I might have made as a parent to her.  It eats me alive sometimes.
But while I messed up quite a few examples as a parent I wish she had seen the most important ones.  The ones where I picked myself up, brushed off my knees and trudged back up the hill I had just thrown myself down.

Life is about progression, learning, loving and family.    
He gave us family to help us along the way.  I just want to be near mine.

My brain hurts.  My heart aches and my “L” button is sticking on my keyboard.  It’s time to call it a night.

I’ll be back with another post that I imagine will be my usual quirky yet earth-shattering
{I’m sure} type of post.  Incidentally I tried to tell myself I didn’t need to blog.  Turns out I lied.

Night all…

loves,

Pidg
P.S. Bula knows she has been awarded “Bad Mom of the Year Award”
again...

3 comments:

  1. Bula and Clementine are real. It's real life. Yes, it sucks sometimes. But what matters is that she DOES see what you have become, Bula. And Clementine, your mama just wants you - not little pieces but the whole sha-bang. Loves to you my bff. This too shall pass. He knows what He's doing afterall.

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  2. I've thought about moving out of state with the family, but i'm not sure I can be away from family. I think I'd fall apart.

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  3. My daughter dropped out of college in Ohio, where we live, and went to Colorado to find herself. She will be 40 this year and guess what.....she still lives there. A husband and two kids and a master's degree, all started there. I wish she was closer. The hardship for us is the expense to go see them. Our mothers haven't seen there great grandkids. MY daughter's hsband lives in New York so that's where they go for vacation. The grandkids don't know what it is like to have grandparents close by. We visit but their other grandparents can't travel anymore.
    So, I feel your pain. You have to give them wings.......she will appreciate you more when she has a family. That changed my daughter alot.
    And.......my realtives don't read my blog. I told a couple my address but they didn't care.....and neither did my friends. It has worked out better that way.

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