What a Beautiful Day

Yesterday marked nine years since my mother's passing. And for the first time, the day was like none other. It marked a slight change - my other half and I were with my family. We went to my aunt's house (my mom's youngest sister) on Saturday - some of my cousins were there and my uncle (my mom's youngest brother) and his family joined in on the dinner fun as well. The evening was just fun-filled with family and love. A big, huge bubble of safeness and comfort. We closed out the night with two games of Scrabble - my aunt, my other half and me. Now, just so you know, my mother was the reigning queen of Scrabble - no one could beat her. She may have been overthrown once or twice. Apparently, I am channeling my mother in that arena.

Sunday, we woke up to great conversation with my aunt and uncle, then off to church where my cousin and his family met us along with my uncle. Then we spent the rest of the time before coming home, with my aunt. And I couldn't think of a better place to have been. It was great to just relax and take in the day and see my other half interact with my family. It was great to be in a place where I feel so safe and comforted . . . surrounded by love. And to be able to be with family and be able to talk about my mother - that's what I needed. Everyone knew what yesterday. But no words needed to be said. At least not many. There were simple looks, hugs of acknolwedgement and words of encouragement and love. And for what my aunt said to me, I'll be forever grateful - that it is okay to move on and that my mother is watching over us. She would be happy with how far I have come in life and the man that I am blessed to be with.

It was difficult to leave. Being with my aunt feels like home. But I know we'll be back there soon enough. There was a shred of sadness when my other half and I back to our home. It was at the end of the night after we'd had our Sunday dinner together and the house was full of our favorite aromas - Sunday sauce (well, bolognese sauce this Sunday). I just needed to allow myself the emotion, which is difficult sometimes.

I miss my mom everyday. After spending the time this anniversary with my aunt, I see the flipside in that those who have gone before us aren't really gone, they are with us. I understand those words, but admittedly, I'm not quite there yet. But, I guess it is okay to keep moving forward. I know it's what she would have wanted.

Tellin it like it is. I think.

Anger. It has such power over the person who is consumed with this emotion. It can take hold and remain for a short period of time or it can linger in a person for years at a time. If we're not careful, it may evolve into a way of life, seep into our mannerisms . . . Since my mother's passing, I have had to deal with this particular emotion in many ways. I've directed it at undeserved people, I've internalized it for days/weeks/months, I've been undeserved receiver.

As the nine year mark approaches, I decided to confront the anger issue head on with regard to my father. This has been an incredibly difficult year in which he has had to adjust to many changes. And, along the way, his decision has been to strike out in anger towards me (and sometimes my other half) at times of his choosing. My father has a tendency of not hearing me, literally, or he chooses to ignore the words that I choose so carefully to say, especially with respect to the matter of my mother. So, I turned to the only other medium I could and wrote (well, typed) him an email expressing how I felt.

My bottom line message to my father was that his choosing to treat me with anger as he chooses is just unacceptable, that he does not act in accordance with the words that he says, that he knowingly sets people up for his manipulation, that he cannot make choices and then lash out in anger towards others because of the choices he makes. That he consistently states that we are family and should act as such, however he is incredibly guilty of not acting like he is part of a family.

It may not have been the most love-oozing letter to my father, but it was not intended that way. It was intended to express to him that I will not be his fall guy, so to speak, anymore for his anger. That I will not allow him to ignore questions, withhold information then act in anger accusing me that I do not care about his well-being. That I will not accept responsibility for his decisions that he later wants to be upset about. That it is his choice to not join my other half, myself and my other half's family for Thanksgiving, despite numerous invitations, and he lost his right to be angry thinking that no one wants to spend Thanksgiving with him.

This all came out in an effort to elicit particular important information regarding an upcoming event with respect to my father. Despite repeated requests for further details, including my long email this morning, he still refuses to divulge specific details. Rather I get the vaguest of information. Why I did this I have no idea. Oh yeah, it is so that he recognizes that I will not accept his behavior. And to have it in black and white that he was asked about certain things numerous times. It seems like that should be unnecessary, but it is given that he has an interesting way of recollecting things in which he is consistently right, even though he completely twists, inserts, omits, etc. words.

Don't get me wrong, I love my father. He's my father. And I understand that a part of him insists on remaining angry because my mother is no longer with us. There are days, sometimes continuous days, in which I am flat out angry. There are days when I direct that anger towards underserving folks. As much as I can, I try to keep myself in check and explain my disposition and apologize. My father . . . he is unable to do this. I understand he is my father. But, as a human being and as a daughter, I am entitled to some respect and consideration.

So, I told it how I see it. How I feel. And . . . as usual . . . I felt about this small because (1) my father again ignored my request for detailed information and (2) said nothing else with respect to my thought out letter.

Honestly, I don't know why I'm surprised or the slightest disappointed.

Lost.

That is simply how I feel.

It succinctly describes where I am.

My family, what's left of my family seems lost, unable to come together and be a family. My brother and his wife (and my soon to be niece) in another country. My father across the country. One unable to travel for the upcoming holiday season. The other unwilling to travel for the upcoming holiday season.

The last one remaining in the place where my mother passed. Disconnected from those who also deeply mourn the loss.

It is a difficult place - lost. Indescribable in words. Generally not shared. But causes waves around those I love the most.

All I can say is, I'm sorry. It'll pass. I'll work through it. But, for now, I'm sorry.