Proverbs 19:21
Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the LORD's purpose that prevails.
Today's entry is about my relationship with my adult daughter. She will soon be thirty. Beyond thinking it would be impossible to have her be that age, I thought we would enjoy an adult closeness. I thought we had been close when she was growing up. In mid- 2013, it was my shock and dismay to learn from her that she has never felt close to me and she had a horrible childhood. I had sensed that she had become distant to me beginning with college and especially before and after her marriage in 2006. I really thought time and a life on her own would soon set things "right." In 2013, I asked her what I can do to improve the relationship. It is my understanding I can do a better job of listening. She lives far away in Germany with her husband, and does not contact me often. Most likely I can always listen better than I do.
In February 2014, we as a family had a long awaited time together. For my daughter and I there were times of civility, verbal vomit in Macy's and then civility. She made me aware that she finds me judgmental, harsh and self centered. She was abundantly clear that she prefers not to be alone with me.
I am frankly one hurt, astonished and totally puzzled mother. I ventured to ask my son, three years her junior, if he had any idea what has been going on with my daughter and me these many years. He asked, "How honest do you want me to be?" I said that since I asked, he might as well be as honest as possible. He shared that it is his understanding she cannot stand my personality or my religion.
First, I was stunned. Then, I felt like laughing from relief. I was all set to work hard on my various sins, but heck, my personality and my religion are bedrocks!!! Not a whole lot of options for change there, even though I would like to make plans and take control of the situation and make myself "right." I think this is why my mind returns again and again to this unhappy situation. Frankly, all I can do is hand our relationship over to Jesus and say, "Here. My trust is in You. You love us all and I trust Your will. Amen." Again and again. All I know for sure is I love her very much and hope to be closer to her someday.
I also take comfort from some parallels I've stumbled unto. In the book Falling Into the Fire a psychologist relates her emotional upheaval when a patient with a history of appearing to "fake" seizures "fools" her too. The psychologist's inability to correctly diagnose and treat the patient made the psychologist doubt her capability as a physician. Also the psychologist resented being intentionally "deceived." The psychologist focused on her own feelings of inadequacy and resentment, rather than on what the actions of the patient declared. My daughter's thoughts and feelings are her thoughts and feelings. They are not a reflection on my actual capabilities as a mother. They are not intended as attacks.
Which leads to another analogy that has proven helpful to me. It was might corny at first. A rose is fragrant to smell and beautiful to see. It also has thorns that can prick very painfully. The rose does not intend to attack, it is simply prickly. Just as it is lovely. All of this is a rose being a rose. I can give thanks to God for the rose or bemoan the thorns. Thank You God for my daughter, son and husband. And all my family and friends!!! Amen.
I try to record and savor each day's treasures. Today's treasures have been the lovely weather, good health and this blog!!
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Monday, April 21, 2014
Introduction - 04-21-14
04-21-14
Genesis 1:27
So God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female he created them.
Hello world! This is my intro blog. Stay tuned to read the ramblings of a newly 60 year old female who presently resides near an oil boom city in the Midwest of USA. There is only so much Spider Solitaire a woman can play before thinking, "Hmm, what else can I do before I die?"
This blog is an attempt to get going on my memoirs and share whatever I may have to offer. Memoirs would be a bit of today and a bit of the past, right? My today included the smiles and laughter of the locals as I walked my Himalayan Rag Doll cat in an infant stroller in a local park. I tried the Pet Smart pet stroller, but found myself wishing I was 4'4" instead of 5'4". I guess only kiddies walk their cats? Anyhoo, since the cat likes lying in the sun and I enjoy walking, a good time was had by all. Today was also one of the first days to frolic outdoors without a hooded parka, scarf and snow-pants. Whoo-hoo!
I suppose a good intro blog would intro the author somewhat. I was born in Alexandria, Virginia in 1953. I made my appearance sans ear canals or ear drums. My mother said I was popular with the doctors. Most of my childhood was spent in Fairfax, Virginia. My mother's boss was Sargent Shriver of Peace Corps fame. My mother was the secretary of the Peace Corps payroll. My father was an auditor with the U.S. Navy. He kept things lively for our family with his version of a person with bipolar disorder. My mother passed away from cancer at age 38. She was from Minnesota, and I went to live with her parents there on a dairy farm whence my father sent me during one of his "episodes."
A cousin of mine was already in residence on my grandparents' farm. I soon wormed my way into the daily chores. My uncle, his wife and their baby girl lived in a trailer on the farm property. A fairly good time was had by all until my grandfather died from cancer and my cousin was killed in a car accident. Soon enough it was my grandmother and I doing the daily chores and my uncle handled planting, harvesting and keeping the machinery running.
My grandmother was a stoic German and kept her grief to herself. I didn't think I said so much, but she often insisted I stop "babbling." One day we were cleaning the barn. She did her gutter and I did mine. I said something. She said, "Stop babbling." Next I know we have the tines of our pitchforks aimed at each others' eyeballs. I gritted my teeth and said, "I Am Not Babbling!!!" Whew. The pitchforks eventually, slowly lowered and we got back to business. I don't recall ever again being told to stop babbling. Much better memories include the way my grandmother would make me laugh with stories about her eccentric mother in law. And the joy we would share over the treasures we found scouring garage sales. A blue light special at K-mart would make us giddy.
My grandmother's further acts above and beyond the call of duty include getting me enrolled in confirmation in ninth grade and driving me to the not so nearby Vocational/Technical Institute after high school graduation. In confirmation I learned to think deeply about God's love for me. In the Vocational school I learned accounting and computer operating.
After vocational school my grandmother and my aunt valeted me about town until I aced an interview with Josten's. The next ten years were spent editing orders for catalog cards for books, keying the orders for catalog cards and then actually operating the computers and printing the catalog cards. All in all these were pretty good accomplishments for a hard of hearing, near sighted, sort-of-shy female of the 1970's! Whenever a relative commented to my grandmother on my prowess at school or at work, she could have taken the opportunity to say how hard she worked to get me where I was. Instead she would always say, "That is just the way she is." Bless her heart!
So, of course there is more to tell in future posts. Getting married. Having babies. Traveling. Other occupations. Better not spill all the beans today! Stay tuned!
Genesis 1:27
So God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female he created them.
Hello world! This is my intro blog. Stay tuned to read the ramblings of a newly 60 year old female who presently resides near an oil boom city in the Midwest of USA. There is only so much Spider Solitaire a woman can play before thinking, "Hmm, what else can I do before I die?"
This blog is an attempt to get going on my memoirs and share whatever I may have to offer. Memoirs would be a bit of today and a bit of the past, right? My today included the smiles and laughter of the locals as I walked my Himalayan Rag Doll cat in an infant stroller in a local park. I tried the Pet Smart pet stroller, but found myself wishing I was 4'4" instead of 5'4". I guess only kiddies walk their cats? Anyhoo, since the cat likes lying in the sun and I enjoy walking, a good time was had by all. Today was also one of the first days to frolic outdoors without a hooded parka, scarf and snow-pants. Whoo-hoo!
I suppose a good intro blog would intro the author somewhat. I was born in Alexandria, Virginia in 1953. I made my appearance sans ear canals or ear drums. My mother said I was popular with the doctors. Most of my childhood was spent in Fairfax, Virginia. My mother's boss was Sargent Shriver of Peace Corps fame. My mother was the secretary of the Peace Corps payroll. My father was an auditor with the U.S. Navy. He kept things lively for our family with his version of a person with bipolar disorder. My mother passed away from cancer at age 38. She was from Minnesota, and I went to live with her parents there on a dairy farm whence my father sent me during one of his "episodes."
A cousin of mine was already in residence on my grandparents' farm. I soon wormed my way into the daily chores. My uncle, his wife and their baby girl lived in a trailer on the farm property. A fairly good time was had by all until my grandfather died from cancer and my cousin was killed in a car accident. Soon enough it was my grandmother and I doing the daily chores and my uncle handled planting, harvesting and keeping the machinery running.
My grandmother was a stoic German and kept her grief to herself. I didn't think I said so much, but she often insisted I stop "babbling." One day we were cleaning the barn. She did her gutter and I did mine. I said something. She said, "Stop babbling." Next I know we have the tines of our pitchforks aimed at each others' eyeballs. I gritted my teeth and said, "I Am Not Babbling!!!" Whew. The pitchforks eventually, slowly lowered and we got back to business. I don't recall ever again being told to stop babbling. Much better memories include the way my grandmother would make me laugh with stories about her eccentric mother in law. And the joy we would share over the treasures we found scouring garage sales. A blue light special at K-mart would make us giddy.
My grandmother's further acts above and beyond the call of duty include getting me enrolled in confirmation in ninth grade and driving me to the not so nearby Vocational/Technical Institute after high school graduation. In confirmation I learned to think deeply about God's love for me. In the Vocational school I learned accounting and computer operating.
After vocational school my grandmother and my aunt valeted me about town until I aced an interview with Josten's. The next ten years were spent editing orders for catalog cards for books, keying the orders for catalog cards and then actually operating the computers and printing the catalog cards. All in all these were pretty good accomplishments for a hard of hearing, near sighted, sort-of-shy female of the 1970's! Whenever a relative commented to my grandmother on my prowess at school or at work, she could have taken the opportunity to say how hard she worked to get me where I was. Instead she would always say, "That is just the way she is." Bless her heart!
So, of course there is more to tell in future posts. Getting married. Having babies. Traveling. Other occupations. Better not spill all the beans today! Stay tuned!
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