Friday, December 14, 2007

Working Together for Good

Somewhere along the way I lost myself.

Where am I?

Who am I?

Maybe I’m not lost, maybe I’ve been growing all this time but am hidden.

Hidden behind the role.

Hidden behind the urgent.

Hidden behind the armor which protects me.

Powerful wings lifted me from the nest; the nest moved leaving no forwarding address.

Powerful heart created this, a new nest, and it is enough.

Or is it? Is rootlessness healthy? Can it be overcome - completely?

Am I my past or am I my present? A combination, you say. True.

While I create in my new nest what was missing in the old, I create pain for myself even while others are content, happy.

And thus I hide. Hide my pain. Hide my longing. Hide my tears.

For pain, longing, and tears are not wanted. I do not want them.

But they are real.

From this rent heart springs determination

Love

Giving

Honesty

Who am I?

Where am I hidden?

I am me, just as always, growing, changing

I am hidden in the measureless love of God

Nurtured by true family

And, yes, it is enough.

8 comments:

tshsmom said...

Oh man! I can identify with all of this, especially: "I create pain for myself even while others are content, happy."
The overriding question here(at least to me) is: do we continue to hide our pain or do we disrupt the contentment of our loved ones to overcome OUR pain?
This was such a hard choice for me!

Cherie said...

My pain can't be overcome, I'm afraid. Here in my nest with Tom and the kids I am fully honored, loved, and nurtured. The ache I feel at Christmas is for what never occurred in my original nest: unconditional love. When I see my kids' relationships with each other, with Tom, and with me, I am so joyful - and then there is a tell-tale ache reminding me that I don't know what that feels like from parents and siblings. I have so longed for it all my life. Why won't this leave, this knowing that I will never be good enough for them? I don't play the games. I don't tow the line. I go to the 'wrong' church, listen to the 'wrong' music, read the 'wrong' books, and say the 'wrong' things. I am an outcast by my own hand for I won't stop being true to myself, so why do I care?

This is the part of Christmas that is hard for me. Small, not dominant, but there nevertheless.

And this too shall pass.

I wish we could get together and talk, Tshs. I think we could really help each other. Sigh...

Anonymous said...

I think your sentiments are heard around the world, Cherie. You are not alone. Everyone has something from their past that haunts them. I think it helps us with perspective and to realize we are not THERE yet. "It is enough". I like that!

(((hugz)))

Cherie said...

Thanks, Annie, for putting it so well. (((hugs))) right back.

tshsmom said...

Oh boy, we have THIS in common too?!
I am also a HUGE disappointment to my parents. My childhood wasn't too bad, IF I did everything the way my parents expected.
However, my entire adult life has been a constant struggle with my parents. It started when I married the "wrong" man. Then I chose to devote my life to my family, rather than a high-powered career. Then we raised our kids to be true to themselves.
I am a TOTAL failure in my parents' eyes. :(

I would LOVE to sit over a pot of coffee with you, so we could free ourselves of these anchors that are chained around our necks!

Cherie said...

I imagine the sadness you carry makes you all the more determined, as it does me, to accept your kids forever, to love them, praise them, listen to them, share your wisdom gently, and be, above all else, understanding and forgiving. I fail too much - but never stop trying.

I'm holding a hot cup of tea right now - raising it to you - cheers, Tshs! We're in this together.

tshsmom said...

Absolutely! I sometimes tend to go a little too far in accepting my kids.

For example: SME's first husband was a pretentious, lying, arrogant, obnoxious waste of humanity.
L and I were determined to accept him as part of our family. If our daughter loved this "man?", he must have redeeming qualities. We refused to treat him the way my parents have treated L.
We wound up being right about this jerk. He started cheating on our daughter 4 months after the wedding. Would she have married him if she knew how we felt about him? Should we have told her about our misgivings?
After the divorce, we did explain to her why we didn't voice our doubts. She understood completely.

Cherie said...

Wow, good example. SME is so fortunate to have you and L, and you are blessed with an understanding daughter.

Sad that she had a jerk like that in her life. Four months! Grrr....

It's hard to know when to say something and when to let our kids' mistakes be their mistakes. The letting go and letting fly is not an instantaneous thing. Happens with fits and starts.

But alas, when they always have the kind, understanding arms of parents to land in when the going gets tough, it's just bound to teach them to be that way, too. And how much better for the world!

Thanks for sharing this with me.