IMPERFECT Lady

We are at Peace when we are apart.

My feelings and body's radar was spot on.  I have had words sent to me that tell me so.  I was also surprised that my mother told two different versions of an encounter with me...both painted her in glowing colors and me not looking so good.  In both stories I spoke to her...unkind words.  My lips never moved.  Interesting and oh so telling.

It surprised me....and then not.  She has been painting her world to suit her needs and her story and to keep folks believing in her.

How sad she continues to paint me black.

And what I have always suspected is they never hear her lies...as well as they never hear my truth.  The thing that has ridden along for many years, "Not being Believed."  

Her credibility still stands after being married to a pedophile for 49 years....who wouldn't believe her integrity???

What I guess I am also surprised by is that they expected something different from me; social graces.  I know I failed at this.  I am not there...and not sure I will ever get there. I didn't have it in me to say a word of welcome...for my body didn't feel welcome, it wanted to turn them away.

I knew it was going to feel bad for me....and now I know it wasn't pleasant for them either....but that is why we don't co-mingle.  

I don't believe there will be a way to have us in the same space without there being drama or uneasiness, or anxiety... I just can't see how it could be done.  I see it as the truth and denial mixing and they may refute that.

Which is why I will always stay away from anyone of their family affairs.  I refuse to bring drama to their days.  I give them space and oodles of it...

I am glad for the messages for they showed me once again, who they are...and why we have kept our mutual distances.  We are at peace when we are apart.

But She had Wings....

An hour before the wedding, I rounded the corner and headed up this road, and recalled the afternoon we spent decorating....and all our efforts shown like touchable love...its presence overwhelmed me...along with a belly full of dread...I almost erupted into an ugly cry that would have taken over my whole body, instead I gulped, swore and vowed to stand strong on this day...somehow and preserve a wedding.

How can it be possible for the human body to hold two completely different emotions at once?  The most beautiful dream and the terrifying nightmare?  The chest full of love and a belly of fear...

The Universe walked with me all day...keeping me very busy up until the last hour.

I baked muffins, and prepared a snack for the girls primping session at the house.  I washed/cleaned my daughter's car.  Oh, and cleaned the house before even baking...I walked the dogs and I cut my son's hair...(after being wedding ready, I had to change into haircutting clothes....and then back into wedding garb.) and few other last minute tasks for the Hall.  

Too busy to ponder the actual collision course I was on.

I knew they were coming, I was braced...and stayed braced for 4 hours.  I was braced and embraced.

It was like the consciousness would flip from beauty to estrangment or maybe just strange...back to love and beauty and then into stress.

I had no clue how to navigate these rolling waters...but I was buckled up to ride.

The Universe was on my side as best it could be...while it brought me back into the sea of childhood emotions...to see things in a broader view.  Dipping me perhaps in the past and then in the future, like an insane carnival ride.

If you look upon the beauty and innocence of the day; washed in love...and juxtaposition it with estranged family members, it almost mimics the life an abused child.

At one point, while sitting in the front row...waiting for the ceremony to begin, two hands dropped down on my shoulders and a voice spoke in my ear...."I didn't know this was you sitting here..." What he didn't know is that was I bracing for this....and it still was a shock to have it happen.  It was out of the blue a voice from the past...with layers and volumes wrapped up in it.

I have years worth of things to say to them, but none they can hear...and I have nothing to say...so I say little.

What struck me most was the presence and sheer volume of them...swarming my space, the forrest, the trees and sun...focus wavered and drew back.

Once the ceremony began my heart was where it should be...overwhelming with warmth and gratitude that I have this love...that I can feel and give this love...and then, roaring back to fear.

For once I had to leave my chair, I felt vulnerable and approachable...and they did approach, at least some.  But, I wasn't an open invitation...I was sending out signals some could read, others were too intent and barrelled in.

I am not sure why some did and some held back, there seems to be no protocol for the estranged to seek or not seek the black sheep.

And the black sheep either feels cornered or surprised.

After the usual wedding photographs required, I was able to move away from the wedding scene....I was a mixture of emotions once again...never being able to stay in the relaxing comfort of love and my family....but seeking to be away, to be less accessible.

I stayed, but no longer than neccessary, no lingering/chatting and passing the breeze...but fleeing instead from their energies.

What I forgot to remember, to remember, I was only free for a limited time....and then this insanity would begin once again...when the reception started, but for now I was alone.

It was on to the hall....

Mother of the bride tasks awaited and I was busy and occupied and then, they began to dribble in....early.

Some made eye contact when we passed, others kept their gaze down...

We know each are present but wanting to remain unseen.  

The eyes know the truth of our separation as do our hearts and the mind wants to pretend to pretend we are thankful that we are all here together....but my body knew and read each signal and registered "not safe"...making me steer clear.

Not only unsafe, but UN-Wedding like it would be to drag into this wedding space the histories between me and each of them.  Like a ton of baggage dumped into our careful wedding preparations...and I felt like I was the only one keeping the garbage at bay.

While keeping the mother of the bride gig going....bracing once again and embracing.

I believe that there were two mother of the brides there that night....one that was reaching out and engaging and one that was closed down and protecting.

Not free to move about freely in the room, but had to navigate the tricky waters trying not to hit a bump of the past...while keeping the event flowing effortlessly.

They only had to slip around and by me, and I had at least 3 tables full.  Their presence was group energy... to one...with the matriarch taking the lead.

How does one create a party atmosphere for her daughter with such loaded histories with so many guests?  It isn't one ex-spouse or one lost friend, but many...the odds were so stacked against me...or so it seemed.

At times, I still am unable to know why it was set up this way...that I had to have a loving wedding intermixed with _______.  I don't even know what to call it.

Each person has its own history...beginning and ending and middle. And each came for reasons.  Each I have known for years...loved and then lost...or lost and never found...or maybe have never known.

Family to estrangement is a very weird path.

My mother kept her distance until the final hour.  She had me in her sights and was approaching fast, I put up my hand, palm up, turned my head and walked away.

I mean really?  Like we were going to stage a______ in the middle of a wedding reception. And, not just any ole reception by my daughters. Really?  That was the time and the place of her choosing.  Really?  She has been up here all summer long...and decides to make her move in public on her granddaughter's wedding day.

No said the Palm, not today.

And, I am or will be seen and experienced as the bitch, the cold hearted one, the one who refused to approach. Really?  To approach and do what in the middle of the wedding? 

Is is possible that she feels the whole setup was staged for her? For our reunion? For our what???  It wasn't about her and it certainly isn't about me.  It was all created for my daughter, ALL of it was for her and her husband's special day.

How strange that some use weddings and funerals as reunions....as meeting spots for the estranged.

When the last one left, my body relaxed for the first time...in a week.  

I was bruised inside and in my heart.

I felt cheated of the full breath and depth of my daughters wedding.

I was not able to ignore such a huge section of the guest list.

I was not able to remain poised and in joy...but had to keep jostling into estrangment.  

I am not sure I could have done anything different and remained me....and true to my heart and soul, my little girl inside.  She couldn't act and be like nothing happened...no matter what day it was...she held her ground and her line...in the unfair game of tug-o-war.

I am pleased I made it through the whole day and did not leave the wedding or the reception, even if had to leave the feelings of wedding from time to time....I remained in the room....in the space, with those whom I have been estranged from for many years now.

I stayed with the wedding.  My love for my daughter never left.  My reasons for estrangement never left.  Nothing seemed to change, just that we were all together in the space.

The energies and the dynamics of my roller coaster feelings echoed that of an abused child; from love to fear - from relaxing to bracing.

I also believe that this time I was being forced into the space with the knowledge of knowing who they were....without the veil of denial; to see perhaps and feel once again the content of my childhood emotions.

What I know for sure, is that a child doesn't have my home to go to.

My husband to love and be loved by.

A warm and safe environment.

I can't imagine how a child stays in that atmosphere, minus the love and beauty of the wedding.

I barely made it through the night...well, four hours.  

My body felt the presence of ill intent, of indifference, of disbelief, of all the myriad of voices and emotions of abuse. They penetrate the body and psyche no matter how you brace yourself, they flow unencumbured...entering into the loving space inside of your body. Fancy Wedding clothes doesn't stop them from reaching deep inside.

My body and psyche simply can't be around them.  

It hurts.

And, it doesn't when their gone.

I feel affirmed that I the reasons I left are still there, nothing has changed while I have been gone.  That my body, mind and soul are not at peace in their presence; but feel it when they are gone.  

I know I am blamed for staying back and keeping my back to them...but what they fail to appreciate is why?

"When she transformed into a butterfly,

the caterpillars spoke not of her beauty, but her weirdness.

They wanted her to change back into what she had always been.

But she had wings"  Dean Jackson

For those you Love!

In the woods on rehearsal night...it just couldn't have been nicer, warmer or prettier...

Everyone was relaxed and I felt, "why wait, lets just do the wedding now....while it is perfect!"

Everyone being their relaxed selves, coming along the pond, flower girls dropping hearts cut from colored leaves....what could be more perfect??? 

Love walking....

Love smiling and holding hands...such great spirits!

Love in music and words... 

(Rehearsal Photos taken by Madeline Huhta)

Love in preparing for the Hall...

Love is patient....very patient...working out each small detail.  Two of these flowers graced each table.

The door in the background had pictures of family....another nice touch.

The Candy Bar.  Oh My!  Each piece again thoughtfully selected...the bride spared no detail!

Down to the Guest Book (quilt)....which I completed with her color selection.  She found the door in our barn...to complete the added touch.

And, all of this before the actual wedding!  

I didn't take pictures on Wedding day, the photographer will cover that :)

The attention to details all made up for an over the top wedding in my book.  Perfect in so many ways!  Love doesn't arrive...it happens in again lives in the small details, with patience, effort and work.  Doing what you love, for those you love!

My daughter's heart.

If there is to be a woman disappointed with the wedding, It is so much better that it be me...than the Bride.

As two woman enter into this day, I can see the dynamics of Mother and Daughter.

I see me and her and I see me and my mother.

I see the differences and the usual power game.

I see the actions and the non-actions.

I see me in a very tenuous spot....the choice between my needs and hers.

This is the very crux and center of how it is to leave behind my childhood and grow into a mom.

Where it isn't about what I want or need anymore, Or me finally getting my childhood needs met, but rather me NOT wounding my daughter.

I am in a unique position.  

I can get bogged down....easily...in my feelings about what is not there between my mother and I. And, even in wanting My wishes to finally be realized. That she finally see me or hear me and acknowledge me. I can easily feel the sorrow and rage at once again being ignored....the dark empty hole that beckons.

It is like going towards the dark or following the Light.

I can be the mother I didn't have...instead of engaging with the hole.

I can mother my daughter in ways that will heal the hole.

It will not make it right between my mother and I, but it will keep it right between my daughter and I.

I can now see how or why a mother refuses to follow her daughter's dreams or wishes....It is when hers have not been met. She then is forever left seeking what she didn't have.

I have given up on finding what is not there to get.  And, in fact I have given to myself what my mother was incapable in giving.  

I gave myself the ears to hear me.

I gave myself the eyes to see me.  

I have acknowledge me...not only my darkest wounds but my brightness too.

I let go of the dream being seen by my mother.

I have a new dream.

My bigger dream or perhaps new dream was to end the legacy of abuse.

In this dream, I be the mother I didn't have.

I do the opposite...

Yet, I do acknowledge and feel the one (mother) who put the hole in me...and I get to move away from her, while attending to my daughter's needs.

 It is a new dance for me to have them both present in one space.  

 And there will be no competition in who I pay attention to.  

It certainly will not be the one who put such a dark spot on my soul.

She will be there.  I will feel her presence in a negative way.  

But the choice will continue to be...what is good for my daughter.

It isn't about me...my mother daughter dream was shattered a long while back.

 All the steps I have taken have been to re-set the pattern.  To stop the cycle of self absorption...to give what I never got.

A mother's eyes to see you.

A mother's ears to hear you.

A mother...who will do anything for their child.

Even walk among the estranged....to feel again, in each encounter, what isn't there...while also feeling the love in those who see me.

I am so grateful I can see the road in both directions and what the consequences would be...depending upon who I try to please.

One would unravel the dream of ending the cycle of abuse...the other will plant more beautiful consequences of love. 

I can see that If I were to please me I would put a hole in my daughters heart.

 

 

 

My Daughter's Dreams

The road to the wedding!  Literally.

What came to me is that my daughter has given me the opportunity to learn how to be a loving mom.  How to listen to her needs and orchestrate the final product, to NOT inject my own dreams and wishes, but to make hers come true.

The smallest detail is a piece of her dream.  

We all have worked and tried to reach its zenith.

Dreams are realized in the steps you take...in the effort you put forth.

I know that IF the success of this wedding is based on effort, it is already a smash hit!  In love we all have done our very best...

My daughter has worked with her dad to get this space Wedding Ready...a few hours spent every other week or so, all summer long...cutting grass, weed whacking, brush hogging, tree trimming....etc.  

Some think it is about One Day, but it really is all the giving and sharing and enjoying our time together...Before the Big Day.

To me, it almost seems like most will miss the whole picture, by only catching a glimpse of the finished piece...that the love was in the process of preperation!

(I would love to share the handmade items, and will....but after the wedding!)

What I know for sure, is I am able to follow my daughter's dreams!

A roar

WIND Ladies took in the Clothesline Project...we who are trying to create a movement...and in order to do that we need movement.

It doesn't mean helping the broken....it means stopping the ones who break others by abusing them.  What we call "Prevention" is to educate the potential victims in how to protect themselves.  Instead we need to begin treating the abusers AS abusers and the ones doing the hurt and stop calling them "family" or "Friend".

Most of us keep looking out into the community for help when it begins in each of your relationships.  Each time you overlook an act of violence you are contributing to the problem.  It is time we empower or over power the abusers by calling them out.  Speak their names....refuse to call them father/brother/uncle and friend!

You teach people how to treat you....are you teaching Violence and Abuse is okay?

Silence and inaction with abuse WILL NOT bring an end to violence, but is actually participating with indifference. 

I am not sure we can end violence with prayer and kindness, for if it was helpful, the abusers would be 'healed'.  They are not stopped by words and awareness, they are only stopped when you remove yourself and others from their grasps.....and to speak their name.  

As I walked along the clothesline, I was struck with the ineffectiveness this project truly has....The words were brilliant, the messages clear...but they don't seem to make people move.  I understand the intentions, but wonder about the actual response....will they make people move away from abusers in their worlds???

I guess it all has to start somewhere....it begins with a whisper and eventually works itself to a roar!  

The other end of abuse!

The last time I saw my mother, I felt inside...what is pictured above.  A small woman in comparison to the world, and especially in her presence. A woman without a voice, a choice.  When I walked into her home, three months after my father's arrest, I felt like above.  I was not used to using my voice....and certainly not with her.

I did use it though.  I said what I needed to say.  I stood my ground.  And began the the journey or my growing into my self.

As I picture myself in an encounter with her, I forgot to remember, I am no longer the woman/child I was over 8 years ago.  

Who I am today isn't the small diminitive woman on the first quilts, or the terrified woman standing against her mother, while standing up for herself.

I wasn't articulate that last meeting. I was on the verge of or in the middle of a break down.  A break down of my old "pleasing self" and the small image I had of me...breaking into my own power.

I don't believe, I will easily be reduce in size by seeing her now after all the work I have done on me.....but I will instead find my strong inner sense of self.

I will arrive at the wedding...as I feel in my latest quilts.  Large, bright and filled with great energy....a woman who knows her own strengths!

What else I have standing behind me and besides me, is the Health community; from Dial Help, the Houghton County Sheriff, and Copper Country Mental health and a wealth of women who like I, have found our way out of abuse.  

I am not the woman/child whose self esteem was barely on the scale....

Today I stand on the other end of abuse!

Who they are...

I was hesitant to do yoga...for I thought I would be overwhelmed with sorrow or sadness, that my disappointment of my family would take over each pose.  But, nothing happened, like that.  I was strong and had balance and flexibility.

It came to me that the road of Estrangement is not ever going to be easy to navigate, but like a tough yoga pose, if you breathe and focus, you can get through it.

Estrangement from family who you left due to their behaviors...will not change their behaviors, because you left. 

In fact, the very nature of my mother is and always has been to disregard what is good for her child...and her grandchildren. That IS why I am estranged from her.

There is also something about skipping me and her wanting to see her granddaughter, like a skip in a record....she wants to continue to sing her song...going to a believing ear and by passing one who is on to her.

How like abuse.

To find an easier target.

I know, my non-supporters, believe I am adding drama, for it simply is "just a grandma wanting to be at her granddaughter's wedding for pete's sake.  Do you have to drag abuse into every occasion, can't you just let it go and forgive and Move ON!"

It is 'just a grandma' that I do have issues with...as we all well know.

She is anything but, "just a grandma".

Her getting to play the role of "just a grandma" tags her as innocent and those of my father's victims....as guilty.

Will a Guilty Grandma Arrive?

Hardly.

She will come in fully blessed and forgiven and right as rain....with all the grandma rights restored.

The simple wiping away of her contribution of so many girls being abuse over a period of 40 plus years...leaves the victims standing in a very awkward position...she is right as rain, but we are not.

The walk of estrangement from her seems odd if she is innocent.  It only works if she is the one who actively created a home where little girls were directed to his lap...the lap of a pedophile.

Sometimes it does seem like I may be overreacting, that I may be a drama queen...until she reminds me once again why I walked away.

It also came to me, that the wedding guest list began a long time ago....when I gave my child the right to choose who she would have relationships with.  Allowing her to be with folks I walked away from. Now, both worlds will collide....

I will have to suck up my awkwardness and dread for the sake of my child.

What also strikes me...is that the reason I walked away was for the good of my child and now the reason I walk back in is on her wedding day.

One thing I know for sure, is that the toughest parts on the path of estrangement are the places where you see your true strength and character....and you also get a crystal clear view of who they are. 

 

 

I know the difference.

Ever since I heard my mother is coming, as well more siblings than I had originally thought; I have been in a state of Dread.

I had to look up Dread, to make sure I have the correct meaning.

"To anticipate with great apprehension or fear."

It seems these feelings have the ability to overcrowd the ones of Love and Joy I have for my daughter and her wedding day.  

Where the past's characters are taking up way too much room...overshadowing any other emotions...unwanted guests in my mind.

What I can see from so many vantage points is the life of an abused child.

How, the light-hearted joyful emotions are an easily overrun by fear and dread...

I can see how normal life events are eclipsed easily and you are not left living in a space of Light...or even this moment of time.

And, this is just the anticipation of the collision.  Not, even the actual event.

Again, in a child's life, waiting for the next encounter with their abuser(s)....how it consumes your world.

What I am watching is my mind playing with scenarios.  Planning exits stragedies, etc..all unknown.

Yet known.

My body remembers how it feels in their space.

It isn't jumping for joy, but bogged down in dread.

I am being asked to walk among them again...and it feels like a walk back into the known dysfunction.

I understand enough, that when I am 'asked' or forced by the Universe, when there isn't a choice, it means something for my soul...another growth spurt.

In this fear and dread is a big peice of my Self.

By walking forward, I will meet her.

A long walk back into my estranged family's presence...to embrace another part of me.

What I know, is that I have to feel this.

I have to walk forward in order to gain another layer of strength...for IF I can do this, the world opens up a bit wider.

I will enter into the family spaces a different woman.  I have words that I can articulate and the strength to say them. 

My resolve to be present and graceful at my daughter's wedding is already being practiced...in how I continue forward with the party prep, knowing the pitfalls it now holds.

The day will be what I pay attention to.

Each come with an intention in mind..

I can't know their reasons or the choices that were made in their worlds...their being there is their business, not mine.  

What I do know, is that the dread seems less today or perhaps my resistance. I also know, I have traversed many side-roads that were not easy; but were amazing in how I gained wisdom about me and even the other person and/or event.

What I know for sure, is without my estrangement or walking away from dysfunction, there would not be another side of this wedding; but one.

There would not be a collision, but a union.

No contrast.

No polar opposites to the dread.

No awareness to the evil that denial breeds.

No feelings inside of me.

No complete and utter freedom to know love, peace and joy.

Because I walked out, there are now two worlds.  Two sides....I see the Light and have experienced the dark.  I know the difference.

Me and a Copper Country Mental Health Board Member....at my "Meet the Artis."

 

 

A New Play

I think I thought I had to prepare to be different. Prepare to change. Prepare to move backwards, to undo, un-think, un-act.  Prepare to undo the authenticity, to no longer be the me that I have uncovered in the painful excavating as I delved into the reality of being raised steeped in so many layers of dysfunction....that somehow, I had to prepare to cover all that I had uncovered; about Me.

That standing in the truth of me; will be unacceptable. 

And, perhaps those expecting the old covered up and hidden abuse girl, will be disappointed. The pretending and hiding of feelings will not happen.  The old me is dead.

Her ghost is what perhaps I fear arriving.  For the old me was loved and accepted....the new me was not.

My words were not believed...

Oh, they would tell you they believe me, that they THINK, just like me....but, it is the actions that have the last say.  

They have never not stopped acting like a family.

A 'loving' family...even against reality.  It is the staged act that fights with my reality.

What I know is how you are treated IF you don't appear on the Family Stage, if you refuse to utter the scripted lines, if you are unable to hit the correct marks on stage...I then become the 'wrong' one.

I am the one moving out of sync.

It feels like a family tsunami is arriving; a full cast of characters in complete family costumes...orchestrated from long long ago, and none of my lines and movements are choreographed in.  I will be the one actor whose lines are from a different play.

How I move and what I say will not fit into the play of "family".

That I am the odd character...

The one who refuses to "get in Line".  

Like I crashed a Long Running Theatrical play, purposefully to ruin it.

And, in a way I have. Well I tried at first to use my new Lines....but they were not accepted or heard.  So, I left the stage....walked out of the theater.  And, now the old play is coming to town. The show is back. The stage is heading my way.

I used to have dreams of trying to get the words out, and I simply could not use my throat and mouth, they seemed frozen....and no matter how hard I tried to speak, nothing left my mouth. My words unspoken.

I have found the key that unlocked my jaw...but not the one that has opened their ears.  

So this family play that is coming to town, has ears that only hear family lines...

And I on the other hand only spew forth words that contradict the image of family.

They will have a chorus of voices to my one lone voice.

It will be like spitting into the wind.

It is also what any child who dares to speak up about a family member who has abused them is up against. 

It is to stop the play.

A play that began many generations ago.

The Family Play.

I am one of the lucky ones who could read beneath the lines, see behind the scenes and see that the play they all thought they were playing, was really a show of horrors.

It is Billed and Advertised as a G-Rated show....but in reality it is all X Rated.

Behind the innocent appearing costumes and lines...is an intricate moving, living, breathing play of abuse.  And, it will continue its long run as long as the family plays along.

Abuse needs the Family to cover, to play along.

What an incredible cast of supporting actors...playing their family roles so that abuse is covered up and not seen.  It is like seeing a double feature at one time!

It almost feels like IF you concentrate hard on family, you will not see the abuse show that is running underneath. 

In my world there is only one show in town....I refused to act and pretend the family show even exists...for its only purpose is to hide abuse.

This is me, at age 9... I believe I pretended to play family after the abuse, but now I can no longer pretend to pretend.  My father introduced me to a new play.