If you’re here just for the knitting there is only a brief mention. Scan down and look at the sweater a few photos down and have a nice day.
This is me age 3.
You know how they say some people are old souls? Well, I am the opposite of that, a new soul or naive soul, whatever it’s called. I have always been new and raw. I’m always learning and always trying to figure things out. I am an only child so I don’t have that competitive instinct from years of vying for attention. I am me whether I am alone, with one other person or in a crowd.
Me age 6.
The last bunch of years have been hard. There was dealing with my father’s declining health, his death, my mother’s brief health crisis and her death all on top of my aunt, uncle and BIL’s deaths and then when I thought it could get no worse, my FIL’s declining health and death. It sucked. It left me feeling very open like a freshly healed scrape that just kept being ripped open.
Me age 4 wearing a wool sweater knit by my father’s aunt Mary.
While in the midst I was calm, cool, collected and most of all on top of everything and I mean everything. I dealt with everything from doctors to nurses to middle of the night crisies to hospice (twice) to lawyers to electricians to plumbers to realtors. I did it all. I did 90% by myself.
Me age 5 and Fiddle my first dog
There were things that happened that I just let go. In the whole picture of what was going on I deemed those things not worth dealing with at the time. My house hasn’t recovered. Quite a bit of time has passed since then and these things I let go still weigh on me. I was raised to be kind and polite. To put other people and their feelings first. I always expect the best of people (which The Husband reminds me regularly “you expect too much of people.”) and more often than not I am disappointed. I should remember that people suck but I don’t. I’m forever an optimist.
I am still bothered by the comment made by a cousin after my mother’s funeral-“you really are a <insert maiden name here>” because I was stoic and held myself together. I’d been a <insert maiden name here> for 53 years and she’d just noticed? Should I have said “you’ve always been a bitch” though that isn’t what I would have said all the times she treated me badly when we were kids.
I’m still stunned by my SIL (I have 4) who said to me after my FIL’s funeral “I feel so bad for my children losing their first grandparent.” All I could do was look at her and after a pause say “Oh I know, the first one is so hard.” I didn’t say “Yes, it’s so hard for your children, all over age 21, to lose a grandparent. Did you notice that mine lost 3 in just over 6 months and N is 13 years old.” Oh wait, only one inlaw (other than my MIL) sent a card when my mother died. None when my father died. No one attended the funerals. No one offered help, or even a shoulder to cry on at any point in all those years. Maybe they didn’t notice. Though based on the level of detail of their lives we hear about from my MIL a death in ours must have come up in conversation.
There are other things and other people but you get the idea.
My world has gotten smaller as I’ve tried to figure out how to get over, get beyond. I’ve lost countless hours of sleep to thinking about how to deal with this type of stuff that just haunts me and I’ve made a decision. I’m moving on. I am choosing to have people in my life who want to be there and who I want there. I’m not obligated to spend time with people who don’t care about me and my family. I’m not going to feel bad about it. Based on past behavior they won’t care anyway.
Me age 1
Happy Tuesday people. Have a great day! I’m going to go knit.
