Tag Archives: family

Addiction, NaBloPoMo: Roots (June 2013)

Are You A (Wo)man of Your Word?

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shadows

If you’ve been following my recent posts, chances are you expect this post to be about J, or addicts in general, and all the promises they make but seldom (if ever) keep. Wrong. I’m trying to make a change in me today.  I’ve spent a lot of time lately reading the writings of others who have been down this road before me, particularly Ron over at An Addict In Our Son’s Bedroom. I am amazed at the strength this family has had to muster over the last few years. A Google search took me to their site and after reading one post, I followed the archives back all the way to the beginning. I’ve been reading for a few days now and am still over a year from the present… and I’ve fought the urge to skip ahead. There’s something very comforting about reading their story; there’s also something very sad about it. Continue reading Are You A (Wo)man of Your Word? →

Life or something like it, Relationships

New traditions are good, too

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The holidays are all about tradition in my family. We visit one grandmother at one very specific time and the other side of the family at another. We eat the same dinner, play the same games, exchange the same gifts, tell the same stories. There’s something comforting about going into an evening knowing exactly what to expect, I suppose. But what happens when time or distance or circumstances threatens these traditional activities? Continue reading New traditions are good, too →

Life or something like it

Let it go already

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I really need to learn to let the little things go. I don’t know why I let myself get so frustrated and stressed at things I can’t control and that really shouldn’t matter anyway. Life is full of ups and downs. I know this. Only a select few (please tell me how they get selected) get to stroll through life without drama or distress.

A large part of how I react to things is genetic. Historically, my family is made up of a bunch of worriers. We stress. We hold things in. We have ulcers and migraines. I really want to learn how to stop doing this. I have enough big problems to worry about without bogging myself down with the small stuff.

Life or something like it

She

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She always had a joke to tell and after she delivered the punchline, the walls would quiver from her hearty laugh. She worked long hard days hemming tee-shirts in a factory and never once complained. She was a mother not unlike my own. Selfless. Strong. Sympathetic.

Friday nights throughout my childhood were spent with her, making Coke floats and watching Dallas. Every fall she would take my brother and I shopping for “Back to School clothes” and every winter she would fill her tiny living room with Christmas gifts for us all.

She drove a simple gray car and lived in a modest, aging house. The floors creaked with every step she took as she prepared a feast for us every Sunday afternoon. When the February cold whisked through the thin walls, she would leave the oven on and open the door to supplement the heat from the wood-burning stove.

She smelled of almond bark and cherries.

I never heard her speak an unkind word about another living soul, even though life had given her just cause to do so. She was the woman I hope to be someday. She was everything a grandmother should be.

And today would have been her birthday.

Life or something like it

Hauntings

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I’ve been playing the “what if” game a lot lately. I keep trying to figure out how my life got so off track. I’m second-guessing every decision I ever made — big ones, little ones, in-between ones. But mostly, it’s the big ones. For example…

What if I’d gone away to college rather than attending university right here at home?

Well, the downside would be the inevitable negative impact on my relationship with my parents and my brother. We’ve grown really close, as adults, these past few years and I know I wouldn’t have that. On the upside, I most likely would have had many more career opportunities upon graduation and would have thought a little “bigger”.

What if I’d never gotten married?

Wow. Now this one I could go on about forever. So I’ll try and just stick to the one aspect of this question that’s haunting me right now. If I had never gotten married, even if I’d gone to college locally, I so would have moved far, far away from here when I graduated. I would be in the big city somewhere with a completely different life. And the thought of that is very appealing to me right now. Very appealing.

What if I’d never gotten divorced?

Maybe that should read “What if I’d never had reason to get divorced?”. What if we’d met later in life? Or what if he’d meant his vows as much as I meant mine? Or what if I’d been the right girl? We’d be happy. In the traditional sense like my parents are happy. We’d work these ridiculously long hours like we work now, but it wouldn’t matter because at the end of the day, we’d go home together. We’d spend Sundays sleeping late and seeing a double feature at the movies. We’d take trips and talk about taking other trips. We’d make plans.

I haven’t written much lately because I’ve been in such a negative mood and I didn’t want to depress everybody else with my little pity party. It’s just that, as I’ve mentioned before, I’m a planner. And it’s so hard to sit back and look at my life now and realize that absolutely nothing is as I thought it would be. And even worse, very little is as I think it should be.

So I struggle now with decisions that should be simple ones because I’m afraid. I don’t trust my own judgment and I’m terrified that one more wrong turn will take me even further into this place I really don’t want to be in. But I know that I have to keep making the choices and taking the chances, because, one of these days, I’m going to get it right.