Wedding Song - God Knew That I Needed You

Sunday, November 10, 2019

HITCHING UP MY WAGON …



… and heading into the great unknown.

Fog horns in the misty fog & raucous geese flying over the house. These are the sounds that greeted my ears when my eyes slowly opened this morning – where we bought this house, and where I live now solo, is a busy thoroughfare for the geese; going out and flying in. I like the heralding squawking of the geese … excited: like they are going on a great adventure :-D

I like the sounds of Fall. Mystery riding the zephyrs of November.


Ships passing in the fog; geese temporarily changing locales.

Canadian Geese formation

Heading into the unknown.

And I am thinking, as I slowly wake up, on where I would like my new life to go.


Comparing it to when the pilgrims left their homes, boarded ships, and set their faces to look forward – into the great unknown. And, too, when the pioneers left their homes, loaded their wagons, hooked up their draft animals and looked forward – setting their determination towards unknown & uncharted territory. That is how I feel my life is right now: my new life, in which nothing of the old life is left.

What will 2020 bring to me?

I’m standing on the precipice of change.

But I am going to meet that change head-on; I’m not gonna be scared of it – it’s something I have to do. So I can get on with life the way Bob expects me to. And, there’s really nothing to hold me back.

The kids have always been rotten to me; they just always have been. There’s really no real reason for it. There really isn’t any reason for all this trauma drama. I always understood Alex’s hatred of me – he exhibited a dislike at the beginning, and that morphed into a bitter hatred as time progressed: he never accepted our marriage. He always treated me badly. In his mind, he always treated me like I was the reason his parent’s divorced: that isn’t true, but that is how he saw it; he was a child caught up in a messy life situation. He was 4 years old when his parent’s separated for the last/final time, and he was 5 years old when his father and I married. He never grew out of the mindset that eventually his parents would reconcile and get back together. That wasn’t reality then … and it’s not reality now. And of course, it will never happen now because Bob is no longer among the flesh and bone. That said, I always understood that hatred, and did my best to rise above it and build a life where Alex was included in our life regardless of his bitter hatred. He was Bob’s son; and I loved Bob.

Stacey’s hatred, I never understood. There really isn’t any real reason for it, other than she saw Alex treating me bad and jumped on that crazy train in a childish fervor to stand in solidarity with her brother, whose attention she was trying to capture – she wanted Alex to acknowledge her. He never did.

The kids are society’s children; they are petulant brats that don’t think of anybody else – they stay focused on themselves. And they nurse imagined hurts. It’s not right thinking.

All I KNOW personally … ALL I KNOW for certain … is that Bob & I loved each other. We met while Bob was going through a divorce; we fell in love & decided to build a life together. Bob had a 4-1/2 year old son from a previous marriage, who turned 5 shortly before we married: and I got pregnant almost immediately after we married. Bob & I used to laugh that before the ‘honeymoon week’ was over, Stacey was ‘on the way.’ And we did the best we could – we were young; Bob was 24 & I was 17 – we were forging a life: we were building it as we went along. As with all new things, and new experiences, we were getting to know each other and raise a family. As best we could. Building a life as we went along. Bob was maturing, I was growing up; and Bob was helping me grow up. Bob was giving me a sense of direction. I came from a family where there was no sense of direction; I was raised in a bohemian/beatnik/hippie lifestyle; there was no direction; there was no real discipline in that world. Bob was a stabilizing influence in my life. He helped me become an adult … and I think I am a pretty good adult ;-) Bob helped me “become” – and I helped him become also: we were 2 halves coming together to make a whole.

We had children. And had twice, during the first 7 years of our marriage, dealt with Bob's death's (once from a blood clot that passed through a lung and killed him in front of me, & another the doctors never did find out why). And there was NO help from either side of our extended family in helping with our children while I took care of Bob: there just was NO help. Bob’s parents were raising children of their own from 8 to 14: and they were very aloof people; my mother … there is no way I can begin to describe my mother: she was never interested in being a mother – she just wasn’t ready to grow up herself; and she let me know she wasn’t ready to be a grandparent. She flat out told me that. She was a flight-by-night person; she liked to party: she liked to go out, she liked to go to the bars at night, and house parties in the afternoons … and she took her teenage children with her to the house parties. She just was not interested in being a parent. And, Bob’s 1st wife, Gloria, raised Alex the same way. My youngest sister – and my brothers too – have told me that I am the only mother they ever knew. My sister Ramona left home at 14, and she’s pretty much taken care of herself – which made her into a pretty bitter person. She’s not a very likable person. I tried the hardest, and longest with Ramona, because we are so close in age; but I gave up on that after what she and her husband did to Bob last October. Ramona has always been a cruel person … and she married an equally cruel person – and I just couldn’t deal with it anymore while Bob was dying last October. What they did was pretty bad & I cut them from my life; I won’t overlook their bad behaviors anymore.


Getting back to the kids … Bob & I did the best we could. We learned as we went along. Bob DIED TWICE and I had to give him the majority of my attentions because we were in serious situations – it could not be ignored to pamper the kid’s over-indulgent egos. Bob needed my immediate attention if he was ever to heal. And we could expect no help from either side of the family tree – our parents were inaccessible. I expected our kids to understand; instead, they got stuck on themselves & they are on perpetual life-long crazy-train pity-parties. Alex, always has been; as long as I’ve known him, he’s felt sorry for himself and he made our lives miserable. He hurt his father with the way he treated me and his sister. And he deliberately went out of his way to hurt me and try to destroy my trust in his father after Bob physically died. When Bob was walking among us in the flesh, I overlooked his behavior for Bob’s sake: but when he started with me this past July, I just couldn’t accept it anymore. So, when he gave me an ultimatum … I let him walk away. And I have been enjoying the peace from that end. It has been very quiet, and I like that.

I made excuses for Stacey because she is our daughter, and I love her. She is our love child & was the apple of Bob’s eye when she was born. He doted on her. She was Bob’s pride and joy … until she was about 14. Things started changing about then and her angsts were getting out of control. She was 16 when she stormed out of the house, screaming she hated us and would never live under our roof again. I was terrified for her – I remembered when Ramona left home at 14: I KNEW what Stacey would be facing. I immediately sent Bob out looking for her and begging him to talk her into coming back home. I said, “Bob, please! She’s only 16! She doesn’t understand what she is setting into motion for the rest of her life. Everyone she thinks will be there, won’t: no one is going to shelter her. All those people that told her to emancipate herself are not going to be there for her. Try to bring her back home.” While Bob was out looking for her and trying to talk her into coming back home, a friend we had at that time, drove up the driveway and tried to help also – she was a witness to what was happening. She could see that I was very upset: not for how Stacey had been treating me, but I was upset because I was scared for my daughter, for what she was doing to her life. I was hurt; but I was more worried about my daughter because she didn’t understand what she was setting into motion. The adults – her father, me, our friend – we all understood very well what was happening: Stacey never came home. And her life has been in a constant downward spiral ever since. She has just never accepted any responsibility at all for where her life is now. And she has constantly blamed me. It’s not logical. She will blame me until the day she dies, and she doesn’t know that any help she got was because of me: I am the one that asked around about her to see how she was doing. I am the one that tried to get her the help she so desperately needed/needs. I am the one that funneled monies to her – ANY HELP SHE GOT FROM HER FATHER was because of me. She never knew that she doesn’t know that help came from me because if she knew, she would never have accepted it. She took it, always made sure in snide remarks that I understood her father was helping her, and continued to snap at me; and I let it go because I knew the truth. And she needed the help. It would have changed nothing if I told her that I was the one helping her – she wouldn’t have heard it over the hatred ringing in her ears. So, her father & I let it go over the years. When the grandchildren came along, we helped with the raising of them when they were infants, and the care of Alyna as she moved into the teen years – again, help I gave because I love my daughter and my grandchildren. 

Bob was done with Alex & Stacey years ago. I hung on, hoping they would eventually come around. They didn’t. And they probably never will.

ANY HELP the kids ever got ... came from me; through their father. There was not anything done that I was not aware of, and did not have the final word on. So, I KNOW the hurtful things the kids have been shouting at me these past 10 months is utter bullshit.

I honestly do not know why our life has gone down the path it has, other than Alex & Stacey have decided that their hatred of me is more important than family unity. It’s unfounded hatred. It’s crazy hatred. It is hatred that is eating them alive; they are both miserable people that have made their family miserable. They both are suffering debilitating illness that are the direct result of hatred running rampant through their bodies – and they refuse to see that. Everyone else can see that; doctors can see that, I can see that, their father saw that, people who know us and have been watching the trauma drama for decades see that: but Alex & Stacey will never see it. They will never acknowledge that they are the problem and that only they can fix the problem by growing up and behaving like civilized human beings: instead, they will continue to feed their anger and bitterness, and whip themselves into insane furies. And they will continue to deteriorate, because that is what hate and bitterness does. I can’t be a part of that anymore.


I am done with it.

I won’t be their whipping boy anymore.


This time, I am doing the walking …


I have my own stuff I’m going through - I have to find a way to get through it. It's scary. It's frustrating, It's confusing. It's lonely. I AM DEALING WITH REAL ISSUES!

Bob's physical death is real.

My grief is real; the pain generated by the loos of my husband's presence in my life is a real and valid thing - it isn't something imagined or made up to get attention.

The kid's betrayal is real. It discredits them more than it dishonors their father - which it does.

The kid's emotional & psychological abuse towards me is real.

I AM DEALING WITH REAL ISSUES.

I am tired of carrying the kids' unrealistic and unrepentant shit.


Both kids are narcissistic hostiles, and I need to move away from that – I can’t deal with that ridiculous and hurtful nonsense right now. I don’t want to deal with their unfounded hatreds anymore. I just don’t. It’s unfair. It’s really unwarranted; and I don’t deserve it.


So.

I’m packing up all my emotions in that regard, hitching up my wagon … and moving forward. I don’t know what the future holds, but I know that it has to be better than what I am living now.


I know I am not the only person going through this type of situation – it feels like it, for sure, but listening to & reading some of the vocal declarations, & FB posts from other widows in the several Widows Groups I am part of locally & globally, there are several people going through similar situations & circumstance who are struggling like I am. It’s sad, but I can’t allow myself to get sucked into the kid’s bratty hatreds just because they are our kids. I just can’t do that.

I know I am not the only person in the world whose family has disintegrated after death, I know I am not the only mother in the world feeling the wrath of their children, I know I am not the only grandmother in the world, that is not part of their grandchildren’s lives. It’s hurtful. It’s unfair. It’s cruel. I can’t change that. I’ve tried over the years – I’ve tried. But now, I’m just gonna quit trying. The kids & grandkids are 49, 44, 29, 24, 22 & 5 respectfully; they know where I live – they know my phone number. They know what they are doing is wrong. Its up to them to change it. But, if they ever shake themselves awake and decide to come around again, I don’t think I will ever consider them trustworthy people – any of them. And that’s sad.


But, this is my life; currently. And we’ll see where it goes as I head into the unknown.


We’ll see where it goes.