My daddy's second wife never made it a secret that she did not care for me.  Over the years, I struggled to find common ground or make a way to have some kind of relationship with her.  I encouraged my children to have a good relationship with her.  And then somewhere over the years I just quit.  At best, she tolerated me and I gave up caring. 

 The last few years before he died, when his health was bad and he was in a wheelchair and depended completely upon her for his care, were the worst years.  She humiliated him in front of us by checking his pants to see if he had "messed".  She reported to anyone who would listen, posting it on facebook, how many times he had an accident and how often she was having to clean him up.  She attempted to expose his backside so she could show his sores.  Daddy told me to leave it alone; don't say anything or "she'll make me pay".  Keeping his request to remain silent was one of the most difficult parts of it. 

Listening to her attempts to confuse him and manipulate his feeling about his children was another.  She told him many times that we weren't visiting him and we didn't care about him.  Several people told me I was lucky to have someone take care of him, as if I didn't want to do it, as if her assertions that I didn't love him were correct.  I lived five hours away and had two girls in school and even if I could have gotten time to get away, she would have none of it.  She griped and complained that we wouldn't help. NOBODY will help and yet she refused the help we offered.  My niece offered to come and help and she accused her of wanting her house.  We offered to pay for a nurse and she was insulted.  What she wanted was for daddy to will her his little rambler and the 30 acres of dirt it sits on.  She wanted him to think that she alone deserved it because she alone loved and cared for him.  

He left her a life estate.

When he was dead, she rid the house of all his belongings and proceeded to Internet date.  She gave 100,000 dollars to a man in Arizona because she thought he was going to marry her and give her a million dollar house to live in. When that was revealed to be a scam, she moved on to local Internet dating and has landed herself a widow from her hometown, who's also in a wheelchair.

I just need to tell her 29 years of pent up anger and frustration.  I need to say "STOP what you are doing and saying and STOP lying about me and my family and GET OUT of our house and STOP calling yourself by my daddy's last name you hateful, nasty, bitter woman!"

I feel better.

Four children is a lot of emotion and energy to keep up with.  I don't often feel up to the task.

The oldest called today from California.  His computer crashed and he owes 2500 dollars in taxes.  Audition after audition leads to a big fat zero and, as he puts it, he's not having any FUN.  How did I communicate that life was going to be fun?

I spent Friday helping S move.  It's not good for me to see firsthand how he lives.  But on the bright side, if there is one, his new girlfriend helped him pack up and she also helped him find this new room-in-a-basement.  Hurrah for the new girlfriend.

L is having a hard time with the loss of her boyfriend's father.  He had been her Sunday school teacher and she had respected and admired him.  She was home this weekend to visit and was put out with her beau because he invited his buddy along on their movie date.  Granted, it was to see Star Wars Episode 1.  The beau continually makes the mistake of putting his buddy before his girl.

The youngest is standing by to cause chaos when her moment arrives.

My daughter's boyfriend's dad died this week.  He had pancreatic cancer.

His sickness began at the same tender time they began to date and it's dark presence has been between them the year and a half they've been together.  She has born up under her boyfriend's inability to include her in his family.  He has kept her at a distance from them, even as he has jumped into ours.  We are even further out of  the circle, so much so that our presence at their home now would be intrusive.

It is so painful to be on the periphery of such a great loss; to care and to pray and to hope and to grieve with someone from a distance.

http://youtu.be/-H_BwyiwbB4

My oldest son is the guy in this commercial.  He made it over a year ago and it just now is playing in my area.  So wild to see his face pop up during the Caps game or during the morning news.
He's finally gotten himself a couple of jobs and can get by financially on his own.  All he needs now is persistence, patience, and a big break.

     The last few years I've come to appreciate that my New Year resolutions fail because they are proclamations of what I am going to attempt to do all by myself, in my own strength. They last about a flat minute. 
       This year, I've asked God to show me where He desires me to go with Him.  The answer appears to be this:  Do the work.  No matter my mood or my feelings or circumstances, show up and do the work:  the work of prayer, of care for my family and friends, of doing what has to be done to manage my health and my home and my gifts.
        In the place of my usual overzealous pounce on a list of resolutions that I quickly lose steam over, I feel a budding of inner strength and peace.  We will make progress this year, God and I together.

Blur and whirl of days.  I've been putting one foot in front of the other and dragging myself back to bible study.  I took a break after daddy died; I just didn't want to be around people.  I'm an old curmudgeon, I think. 
Coming back to daily study after a hiatus has been like coming out of the shade into the sunshine.  It was pleasant enough in the shade, but I hadn't realized that I had gotten chilled there.  Beth Moore's study, Inheritance warmed me all the way to the core and CBS study of Luke is reminding me of how I want to Live and not just exist.  The miracle of God's word is that it brings just what we need when we need it, if I read it.

My blog is like a lot of other things in my life, only halfway invested in.  I start something and then I loose steam for various reasons and find myself back in my own little corner.

I had lunch with my son today.  He's created a mess with his car insurance; ignoring the notices that said it was time to pay up.  My husband told him a million times that he would pay it for him and yet...my son ignored it.  So the DMV will take his license and his tags if he doesn't have insurance and my husband said he was done offering his help.  Enter Mom, me, pushover queen.  I got on the phone and paid the insurance and arranged for the form that has to done because I can't have him loose his car and then his job.

He wants to live at home so he will have money to "have fun".  I told him that the prodigal son returned home when he was ready to accept the life his father had for him.  Not because he wanted to have more "fun".

I know my son is an addict; whether to drugs or alcohol.  And at the moment, being high on substances is how he wants to live.  Day by day and bit by bit I am letting go of my hopes for him.  I am letting go of my addiction to "helping" him.