Today is a new day for me, in more ways than one.
After we had a stop in our hometown for a handful of months, we restarted our lives back in the area where we feel our best. Going back to our work, our lifestyle and health regime. It wasn’t easy since I had such a good time with a couple friends and reigniting the closeness with a couple siblings. All rewarding, along with the additional feeling of experiencing what can’t be replaced, family. As well as having family in a dear friends world.
After a 30 year marriage, we bought a home for the first time. At first thinking we were building a future of real estate and family nearby for our daughter in the event of our impending deaths, which had then spiraled into an investment. One that was way too extravagant and everything we found the expensive, vagabond way to be what we did not want. The most stressful part of living in the north was approaching getting rid of a highly competitive piece of property, as my younger sister prepared to get married.
There truly is a torturous tug of war to deal with a family of your own and moving very far, all the while wanting to be there for someone you have grown up with and is important to you. It gave an all new imperative meaning to the term ‘there’s a difference between wanting to and being able to’. Even though I warned her if her wedding date was changed, I wouldn’t be able to go, that is indeed what happened. It literally broke my heart.
I haven’t seen my youngest sister since my dad’s funeral in 2001, as we each traveled our own beaten path, but I love her the same as I did when we ran by each others side as children. It was one of the hardest things I had to endure to not attend. I imagined my mom telling me on her death bed that I was to always be there for my sister since I never judged her decisions. My mom’s words are to this day my bible. As I reached out to her on the morning of her big day I was standing at my mom’s deathbed listening to those words while feeling joy for my sister’s excitement. While I floated in a dark cloud for days over the impossible chance to arrive, as she was understanding and loving about my not being able to make it, a dark monster from my past that blatantly admits to living in severe jealousy regarding my life, poked at this hurt bear. My sister was the only one who mattered and yet the toxicity of my past reared it’s ugly head all to achieve some sort of sick fulfillment since she lives an empty demented hole of a facade.
I have discovered with age and menopause we all find out who truly counts, what sincerely matters. Unfortunately for me, I have had a heavy load of outsiders that know nothing about me continually follow my trail. Don’t get me wrong, many from my past I welcome. The ones who beat me up to feel better about themselves or make assumptions about me without asking questions to get the truth are the ones I am fighting to rid myself free from. What some of these old friends don’t realize is I was still speaking to them due to my loyalty from our past, my compassion for the unhappiness they lived. Nothing more. A couple of them came to me only because I was there for them. It wasn’t because they felt any loyalty, devotion, or respect. It was because I listened, I gave feedback. They had that one person to take their dysfunctional side.
I have finally approached a side of myself my mom never wanted me to divulge. Bitterness for the selfish.
I actually asked a close friend recently “is it me that these people from my past are being extracted?”, She eloquently yet firmly shared with me that what was happening should have happened long ago. I am not accustomed to such treatment since I have grown past this group. It was an eye opening moment for me. I am not without friendships, I am without judgmental burden.
My sister and I will always love each other and be in touch. Although growing into adulthood, and approaching ones 50’s has been a series of adventures and celebrations while a rocky road of epiphanies. For example, I had someone who once meant the world to me for a long time say, “You spit up blood from smoking? BUT I NEVER SPIT UP BLOOD.” Completely baffled and clueless to what I endured and how close I really did come to death. I can take a lot, I have a very high tolerance for emotional, and physical pain but the handful of times I have had a broken part stick like tar. That was one. She had no idea what I had survived. What I had lived through, because she never cared enough to simply hear the details. While it left me with no inclination to share it. She cannot fathom what it means to have a stand alone “self”, let alone see my own personal separate strife. I can look back to many happy unforgettable moments with who I am referring to here. I can want the best for them. While also proudly walking away.
(Thank you, cancer.)
The moment you feel like you have to prove your worth to someone is the moment to absolutely and utterly walk away.
We are stars wrapped in skin. The light you are looking for has always been within.