Heavy Heart
Man, I try so hard not to use this blog as a brain dump or venting session. After all, I have my journal for that. The problem is, I rarely have time to sit and write by hand in my journal, and sometimes, I think we need to let ourselves be more authentic. So…here I am. I come before this blog post and I lay it all out there. This is your chance, if you are less inclined for the deeper parts of me, to run and go read someone’s post on Facebook or Twitter. Or, by all means, write your own post or do something less involved. This post is not for the faint-hearted…in other words.
Well, they say your emotions, your creativity, your perception of life, etc… is most raw when you wake up in the morning. If that’s true, mine are super raw. It is 5:58am as I type this! I was awoken by my sweet boy who needed to nurse and then fell back asleep in my bed. But, I couldn’t fall back asleep with him. My back was killing me and I apparently just have a lot on my mind.
You see, I just had a really awful encounter with my sister this past week. It wasn’t the first time. And it was out of the blue and undeserved. I don’t want to go into all the details, because they aren’t pretty. But what I do want to get out is how this, and so many other encounters with my family, make me feel.
For years, I’ve tried so hard to keep the ties to my family alive — even though we haven’t lived in the same city for over 12 years. Really? Wow! That’s a long time!! If you know me, you know that there’s a HUGE…and I mean HUGE part of me that longs for home and wants to move back, so I can be closer to them and they can know me and my family better. In the back of my mind, I guess I’d like to hope that this would help our relationships with one another and perhaps help me to feel more grounded, knowing that I had my family nearby. They are all pretty tight-knit. They get together for birthdays and holidays still. My parents really know my sister’s kids. They all seem to know what the other person would want for their birthdays and every detail about the other person’s life.
Truthfully, I go back and forth. Sometimes, I feel really glad that I’m far away. When you are closer to your extended family, there’s more opportunity for drama. When I hear about something from afar, it’s much easier for me to block it out and only see the good in my family. (Drives my husband NUTS!) But, somewhere deep down, I’ve always thought that my life would be easier if I could just be closer to them. For one, my kids would grow up knowing them. And more importantly, we wouldn’t be forced to drive 12+ hours to KC every time we wanted to hang out with them. But, I think the bigger reason lies in what I’m about to say.
You see, I’m a misfit. I always have been the odd bird in my family. And I don’t necessarily take pride in that fact, although some might think it’s a virtue. I’m the oldest of 3 girls, and I always just had my own way of doing things that were so contrary to the way my family did things. Maybe part of it was contrived. But, as I look back, I think the biggest part of it was just who I am. I was particular about my room and extremely organized as a child. My sisters were not. Even as a five-year-old, I would have enough sense to think ahead about what I wanted to wear the next day and lay it out on the floor, down to every single detail, the night before. My sisters did not.
As the years have gone by, I became even more of a misfit. After I partied my way through high school and one year of community college while working for various real estate companies and retail stores, I decided I wanted more out of life. Thankfully, I had angels along my path that were sent to help guide me and show me where I was to go. I say that, because I really…
SIDENOTE: Oh my gosh, the funniest thing just happened. I laid my baby down in my bed and put pillows around him next to my husband, so he couldn’t fall out. Well, as I was writing just now, I heard little footsteps coming down the hall. Apparently, he got out by himself (and it’s a high bed) and came in to the living room where I am without even waking my husband up. Little Houdini! lol
Anyway…you get the gist. I went on to study at a university conservatory, decided I wanted to sing classical music, and meanwhile, got my music ed degree. That was, perhaps, the first big indication that I wasn’t like the other members of my family. Somewhere along the line, after a few failed relationships, I realized that I needed to be in charge of my destiny and not wait for Mr. Right to come along and rescue me. I then decided to test the waters and attempt to live in another country and learn the language while pursuing my art. (I’m really trying to wrap this up, but it’s necessary for background info…lol) Before I left to move to Europe, my sweet niece was born. I was so enraptured with love for her, that I almost cancelled ALL plans to move away. It tore my heart out leaving that little bundle of sweetness and moving to a place I had never been with no familiar things or people around me. I wrestled with this day after day, but I knew it was what I had to do for me. I knew there was nothing in Kansas City for me anymore. I knew it was time to move on. So I did.
I spent 4 years in Vienna before finding Mr. Right and eventually moving back to the U.S. Once again, I found myself fighting hard to go back to my roots and touch ground. But it wasn’t in the cards. Something tells me, as much as I longed to be closer to my family, that I must not have wanted it or felt I needed to do it badly enough, because usually, if I want my way, I know how to get it. This time, I didn’t get it. We had both agreed and decided upon moving to Austin, TX to get started. My husband wanted to pursue his MBA at UT, and we both liked the infrastructure of the city and the seemingly endless possibilities for us here.
Over the years, I have continued to pursue the thought of moving back home. My husband has looked into job possibilities there and let his coworkers and manager know that he was open to transfer if the opportunity came about. Especially after having kids, I’ve realized the importance of being closer to family and wanted to, once and for all, make the move.
Last year, my Grandma died. She had been diagnosed several months prior with Alzheimer’s and placed in a home. At that time, it hit me really hard how quickly time was fluttering by and how serious we needed to take this move. But something happened. Something shifted within me after she passed away. I no longer felt like I needed to move back home to be with her. She would now forever be in my heart.
Some things also happened this past year with my parents. My Dad had a stroke and surgery on his carotid arteries at the end of 2011. He has been struggling to get back on his feet financially and trying to get the house they currently live in sold. Meanwhile, my youngest sister has been going through her own string of health problems. It’s all been very disconcerting and scary. I have been up in arms about what God has in store for all of us. And my need to move back became even more urgent.
But then it hit me, what could I do if I were there that I can’t do here? Nothing. I mean, sure, I could go by and see my parents and offer help selling their house or cleaning it out (as my sisters have attempted to do). But, most likely, I’d find myself just as frustrated as they have been with the issue. And who is to say that I’d be happy there, after all? I can’t say that. I wasn’t happy before when I lived there. Why would I be happy now?
Meanwhile, God has really brought me some great friends here over the past couple of years. More and more, I’m finding that I am so content here with my little family and my wonderful friends…and I’d be remiss if I didn’t also mention TEX MEX! But seriously…something has caused me to really take this place a little more seriously with regard to long term. And I like it.
I think deep down, my parents would like to think that some day we will move back there. I don’t really have the heart to tell them that the odds are stacked against it. It doesn’t make it any easier though. They just came to visit and they are never able to stay very long. The drive is excruciatingly long and this time, they did it without a/c in their car. I felt bad for them!
But, I also know that I have to live my own life. While I love my parents and my sisters, their part in my life has diminished as my own family has increased. Now, my responsibilities are to my husband and my kids.
So, why am I posting about all this? Because it sucks! It feels lonely to know that these people with whom you once spent every waking moment, are now part of your past and not your future. I think it’s just now sinking in. Sure, we’ll still see them and make attempts to drive up from time to time. But now, my real investment is in my family here. In this home. In this life. Anything else is hard…unnatural…contrived…draining!
For so long, I’ve wanted both worlds to meld. To mesh. For my former family to be a huge part of my new family. In many ways, they are. In many ways, they are not. For years, I’ve contemplated whether moving closer would help things to mesh a little more, because maybe then I’d feel like things were complete…like things have come full circle. Somehow, in my mind, life might make more sense if my two worlds could collide and be one. I actually envy people who seem to have this. I especially get nostalgic and envious when holidays and special occasions come up and I’m not able to celebrate with both families.
But truly, for me to live my life to the fullest and love my current family as much as I humanly can, I have to get over this. I simply HAVE to! It can no longer be as much as a whimper at the end of my tongue. It has nothing to do with my love for my former family. They hold a very near and dear place in my heart, and they will always be a part of my life and who I am for as long as I live. But, I cannot let their behavior toward me and my new family, their choices, their very real problems, their MO (that currently doesn’t mesh very well with mine) bring me down, affect my moment, my day, my week, my life. In other words, I can love them, from a distance, but I don’t have to like how they act. I don’t have to accept the dance we’ve always danced. I don’t have to let it sink in and grip me and cause me to feel the need for therapy…or for a colon cleanse.
After all, it takes a LOT to be happy and positive nowadays. I need every ounce of energy I can muster to take care of these boys. If something drains me, continuously, of energy and drive for living and doing all the things I’m here on this Earth to do, it has to be, even if only temporarily, put aside…filtered out…laid down to rest. I’m tired. I’m drained. I’m exhausted from the output without receiving any input. I never give to get back, but every now and then, it’s good to get something back…even if only a tiny morsel.
So today, I want to (once again) hug and kiss my children a little harder and hold my husband a little tighter and reach out to those wonderful friends God has placed in my life who love me unconditionally for who I am without requiring me to change for them. I love the quote: “We love those who we understand.” But, you see, family relationships break that rule. With families, we must love because we are blood regardless of understanding. That no worky for me. I need understanding…or an attempt to understand. I need people in my life that are slow to judge but quick to love. And you know what? That’s the type of person I want and hope I can one day be.
We love who we understand, and we are naturally drawn to people who help to validate who we are and/or challenge us to be better people. They say, “Thank God you can choose your friends…” if only for that validation of our person. Today, my heart is open to that validation, that support network, that mutual understanding, that camaraderie that you can only get with family members who strive to know you deeper (beyond the labeling of your childhood and their former relationship with you) and friends who have chosen you to be a part of their lives.
Whew! That was an earful.
The End.
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