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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 646542" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>Thank you, Tish. Your response was perfect. I feel sometimes like I am the only one who isn't getting how to do this. I wonder what in the world is the matter with me that I can't let go and celebrate and be just fine with all of it.</p><p></p><p>Or at least, find meaning in it, and celebrate freaking that.</p><p></p><p>Someone even posted to me once that my take on things was so dark. I am like, "Walk a minute in my shoes."</p><p></p><p>But I didn't say that, of course.</p><p></p><p>One day, one minute, one step at a time, Trish. That is how you are doing it.</p><p></p><p>And that is how I need to do it too, and be grateful for the things that are good and not be ashamed of falling apart for a little while over the things I cannot believe could be happening. Not to me, not to my children, and never, ever, in a million years, to my grands, those so defenseless little people who surprised me with how limitless was my capacity to love and to keep loving, somehow brilliantly alive in spite of all of it, vital in my core.</p><p></p><p>In retrospect, now that I am through it, I think I did really well. </p><p></p><p>These things are too hard to accomplish and yet, there they are, and we have to decide: Turn away and let the chips fall (<em>... my grandchildren. No! Not my grandchildren....)</em> or figure out whether this time is the one when we need to call up the cavalry.</p><p></p><p>There is nothing easy about any of this.</p><p></p><p>Thank you, Trish.</p><p></p><p>Through your post, I am learning to honor myself. Honor the pain and confusion, and name it and know it is real. Which means you and I are very strong, after all.</p><p></p><p>It is the situation that is wrong.</p><p></p><p>You have had to be stronger than me. Both in coping with what is and in learning to stand up and say "no", you have had to be stronger than me.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Good for you, Tish. That is an excellent therapist. It is crucial that we learn to make that distinction between easing the burden and turning our adult children into dependent monsters. Or worse yet, into encouraging them to toss every vestige of responsibility for their children onto us while they trip merrily off into the sunset and we lose our lives, then our health...and then, our time is over.</p><p></p><p>Or our husband's.</p><p></p><p>And then who takes care of the grands?</p><p></p><p>When the parents have not learned to love and defend them through responsibility for them, who takes care of the grands after we are gone?</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>That is the hardest thing. To know that, and to accept that, and to let it be.</p><p></p><p>And to know when to call in the cavalry.</p><p></p><p>And to survive the not knowing.</p><p></p><p>Somehow, to survive that.</p><p></p><p>Well, it isn't survivable. Who am I trying to kid.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>I love this.</p><p></p><p>It is true, and I love it.</p><p></p><p>On the fridge it goes.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>It does!!! It doesn't help a thing. And we are left with that shining path we created for them untraveled and the kids stuck in the weeds somewhere, calling for help.</p><p></p><p>And then, we hear a baby's cry.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>This is big. I am not liking to have to learn this.</p><p></p><p>It's a really crummy feeling.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>That's another crummy feeling.</p><p></p><p>But hooray for you that you have learned to wait for them to ask.</p><p></p><p>Eventually, we learn to take our triumphs where we find them, and call it good.</p><p></p><p>That is big.</p><p></p><p>Congratulations, Tish.</p><p></p><p>It isn't easy.</p><p></p><p>None of this is easy.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>I am so sorry to say so Tish, but I felt better about myself, about having fallen right back into that hellish place with all of it, when I read that this happens to you, too. </p><p></p><p>For me, the difference now is that I have been through it and come out the other side more than once already, so I know that an answer exists. </p><p></p><p>I just have to find it.</p><p></p><p>I see that in your post, too.</p><p></p><p>You know where you are, and that is something to know.</p><p></p><p>Sometimes, that is all I have, too.</p><p></p><p>I know where I am.</p><p></p><p>I have to find that set of words, that concept I haven't learned yet, that can help me understand my own position.</p><p></p><p>I am sorry for the darkness, Tish.</p><p></p><p>I don't know what I would do in your shoes, either.</p><p></p><p>Some things are too awful to do anything about.</p><p></p><p>Next time, you will know better.</p><p></p><p>Would you find it helpful to post about what happened? </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>That is alright. That is why the fable tells us each of the innocent little pigs had to take the easy way, the breezy, fun way, first. </p><p></p><p>Until they learned the wolf meant it.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>I can never believe how very bad it is going to get, either.</p><p></p><p>It's a balancing act. Deep in the heart of me, as it is for all of us I suppose, it is about learning to walk in the sun. Guilt or hatred or resentment make that impossible. Fear, that mind-numbing fear for the future, for the child ~ that prevents walking freely in the sunshine.</p><p></p><p>I don't know how to get through it, either.</p><p></p><p>I only know that I will. I trust myself now to ask the questions, and I know that somehow, I will come through it intact.</p><p></p><p>Somehow, I will find the right words.</p><p></p><p>That is the fear, for me. That I will be shocked into hating; that one time, I will go too deep and never come back.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Ha!</p><p></p><p>No wonder that person posted that I am too dark.</p><p></p><p>Maybe I should turn on a light, in here.</p><p></p><p>Okay.</p><p></p><p>Upright, again, and all civilized.</p><p></p><p>I get it, Tish.</p><p></p><p>I am sorry this is happening.</p><p></p><p>You will. You will beautifully incorporate all of it.</p><p></p><p>You can.</p><p></p><p>You will.</p><p></p><p>I did not know I could do this, either.</p><p></p><p>But I did, I am, and somehow, so will you.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 646542, member: 17461"] Thank you, Tish. Your response was perfect. I feel sometimes like I am the only one who isn't getting how to do this. I wonder what in the world is the matter with me that I can't let go and celebrate and be just fine with all of it. Or at least, find meaning in it, and celebrate freaking that. Someone even posted to me once that my take on things was so dark. I am like, "Walk a minute in my shoes." But I didn't say that, of course. One day, one minute, one step at a time, Trish. That is how you are doing it. And that is how I need to do it too, and be grateful for the things that are good and not be ashamed of falling apart for a little while over the things I cannot believe could be happening. Not to me, not to my children, and never, ever, in a million years, to my grands, those so defenseless little people who surprised me with how limitless was my capacity to love and to keep loving, somehow brilliantly alive in spite of all of it, vital in my core. In retrospect, now that I am through it, I think I did really well. These things are too hard to accomplish and yet, there they are, and we have to decide: Turn away and let the chips fall ([I]... my grandchildren. No! Not my grandchildren....)[/I] or figure out whether this time is the one when we need to call up the cavalry. There is nothing easy about any of this. Thank you, Trish. Through your post, I am learning to honor myself. Honor the pain and confusion, and name it and know it is real. Which means you and I are very strong, after all. It is the situation that is wrong. You have had to be stronger than me. Both in coping with what is and in learning to stand up and say "no", you have had to be stronger than me. Good for you, Tish. That is an excellent therapist. It is crucial that we learn to make that distinction between easing the burden and turning our adult children into dependent monsters. Or worse yet, into encouraging them to toss every vestige of responsibility for their children onto us while they trip merrily off into the sunset and we lose our lives, then our health...and then, our time is over. Or our husband's. And then who takes care of the grands? When the parents have not learned to love and defend them through responsibility for them, who takes care of the grands after we are gone? That is the hardest thing. To know that, and to accept that, and to let it be. And to know when to call in the cavalry. And to survive the not knowing. Somehow, to survive that. Well, it isn't survivable. Who am I trying to kid. I love this. It is true, and I love it. On the fridge it goes. It does!!! It doesn't help a thing. And we are left with that shining path we created for them untraveled and the kids stuck in the weeds somewhere, calling for help. And then, we hear a baby's cry. This is big. I am not liking to have to learn this. It's a really crummy feeling. That's another crummy feeling. But hooray for you that you have learned to wait for them to ask. Eventually, we learn to take our triumphs where we find them, and call it good. That is big. Congratulations, Tish. It isn't easy. None of this is easy. I am so sorry to say so Tish, but I felt better about myself, about having fallen right back into that hellish place with all of it, when I read that this happens to you, too. For me, the difference now is that I have been through it and come out the other side more than once already, so I know that an answer exists. I just have to find it. I see that in your post, too. You know where you are, and that is something to know. Sometimes, that is all I have, too. I know where I am. I have to find that set of words, that concept I haven't learned yet, that can help me understand my own position. I am sorry for the darkness, Tish. I don't know what I would do in your shoes, either. Some things are too awful to do anything about. Next time, you will know better. Would you find it helpful to post about what happened? That is alright. That is why the fable tells us each of the innocent little pigs had to take the easy way, the breezy, fun way, first. Until they learned the wolf meant it. *** I can never believe how very bad it is going to get, either. It's a balancing act. Deep in the heart of me, as it is for all of us I suppose, it is about learning to walk in the sun. Guilt or hatred or resentment make that impossible. Fear, that mind-numbing fear for the future, for the child ~ that prevents walking freely in the sunshine. I don't know how to get through it, either. I only know that I will. I trust myself now to ask the questions, and I know that somehow, I will come through it intact. Somehow, I will find the right words. That is the fear, for me. That I will be shocked into hating; that one time, I will go too deep and never come back. *** Ha! No wonder that person posted that I am too dark. Maybe I should turn on a light, in here. Okay. Upright, again, and all civilized. I get it, Tish. I am sorry this is happening. You will. You will beautifully incorporate all of it. You can. You will. I did not know I could do this, either. But I did, I am, and somehow, so will you. Cedar [/QUOTE]
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