Continuing from where I left off… I said, “To You, him acting up and not acting normal is considered NOT acting like a father, and to me,three square meals and a hug is a good enough!” We both chuckled.
We continued with the the topic of emotional support, we try to be emotionally supportive, regardless of the circumstance, but that is NOT a child’s responsibility. We feel responsible for their emotions, while ignoring and repressing our own. “This is why I’ve allowed so much bull**** to fly in my relationships!”, she began to explain. The pain and frustration in her voice was painful to hear. She expressed her regrets for giving the wrong people so many chances. She said she felt guilt, and that she may have unintentionally set a bad example for her children. She told me that she felt ashamed of herself for the nonsense she’s normalized. The passes she gave to people who did NOT deserve it. She said WENEVER STOOD A CHANCE! and I agreed. Your first example of what a man should look and act like, is your FATHER, Whether you realize it or not. I say this in the case that you have one, and/or remember the times he was around. I remember the first time I heard that a long time ago, from a talk show something.
I’m embarrassed to say that I used to expect inconsistent behaviour from men. Not necessarily “bad” or “good” behaviour, just inconsistent. I’ll get more into that in another blog.
A flood of texts from my bestie cousin, lead to an interesting back and forth about Fathers, and parenting. We hadn’t touched base in weeks, I was wondering how she was doing, and her messages caught me off guard. She explained a situation going on with her father with a slew of audios and texts, she was extremely upset and stressed. I was taken aback and empathized, as she told me how sad she felt. She sounded broken, more hurt than ever before, and I was moved more than ever before. We’ve always discussed this topic, regarding Father’s, and how to deal with and understand their sometimes odd behaviour. I’m trying to use the appropriate word to best describe their behaviour, and I’m having trouble pinning it…It can be random, unnecessary, difficult to dissect, and disruptive.
I was almost not going to respond, feeling I had no place to speak on it. I haven’t had a father around since I was a small child, and inconsistent at that. There are situations that I haven’t had to be in, situations that I have zero experience dealing with…Who am I to say anything??
For the longest time, I’ve thought about the fact that we feel as though we have to support them, and by support, I mean emotionally. That is not normal. We only think it is, because we’ve been conditioned by our upbringing. We witness our mother’s quietly “keep the peace”, we don’t quite understand why they aren’t speaking up, or “defending” themselves. At a younger age, we see our mother’s be passive, about things that WE even know should be addressed, or should be checked. Too young to comprehend the complex nature of adult relationships or marriage. There are convos had behind close doors, things not shown in front of children. Simply observing, confusion contradictions, seeping into our hearts, our subconscious mind, leaving a permanent impression.
I called her, and she proceeded to explain her disappointment, stating how a father “should” behave, I couldn’t help but ask her if it’s okay to interrupt. I said, “To You, him acting up and not acting normal is considered NOTacting like afather, and to me,three square meals and a hug is a good enough!” We both chuckled….To be continued.
Sorry for the delay, and for the “dabby” typo in my last post! I’m usually up writing at wee hours in the morning and that one SLIPPED me:/! I really meant daddy…Continuing from where I left off….It’s not easy explaining this, as simple as it should be, it’s quite complex and confusing. I understand that a Daddy issue, can be anyissue, or even expectation, good or bad that a woman may have tied to her relationship with her father. The angle I’m taking is slightly different than the Daddy Issue term that gets thrown around. Based upon my life experience thus far, I realized how much mixed messages I received and took on. So many of daddy’s issues I felt responsible for, ones he shared with me, thus aging my mind and soul. I always felt as though I was five going on fifty, understanding an adult’s issues oh too well, feeling as though I was the gatekeeper for his secrets and flaws. I truly felt responsible for his pain, and I never really knew why. All I knew is that, I believed his every word, trusted and adhered to his instructions on what not to do, the bad things that he said hedid that destroyed him inside. I listened as though I was a university student at a lecture. He wasn’t around all the time, so I figured this was important to him, I’d better listen! I showed him the respect that he deserved, yet with a child’s mind thinking, CAN I GO PLAY NOW??? Lol
Daddy issue? I never thought there was one, I never thought I had one. I trusted my father as a child, he was around enough for me to be familiar with him. He lived in our house, married to my mom. He was in no way a foreign figure to me. The lessons he taught me, I have shared in previous blogs. I’ll never forget when I was five or six, he got me ready for picture day. Mom wasn’t able to that morning, and I remember feeling a little worried lol because I wasn’t sure he could do it. It was the one and only time, and he did an amazing job. He combed my long hair into pig tails that he did a good job braiding. He even parted my hair well. The outfit he chose was quite stylish, a white collared shirt with a cute black vest. As girly as I was, it was a refreshing change from the usual “flowery”, dresses, or patterned outfits. If you’re an 80’s baby, you’ll know what I mean. That pic, and that picture day was one of my favourite, and I remember the photographer saying, “Great SMILE! Good job!”. I only needed one take. My father made that an extra special day, a memory I will always cherish. The few times I’ve mentioned these type of memories to him, on a long distance call, there’s an awkward silence…..On his part, although he does mumble a few nice words, showing me that he appreciates me acknowledging his role in my life. How do I know what he means, by that response? I know because our connection, I understand him on a different level. Time and distance didn’t change that, and I tried to hold on to it, for dear life. I tried to appreciate it and keep it going, regardless of thecircumstances.
I never had a daddy issue, well not that I know of, and I never thought about or questioned his role in my life. I never cried to my mother asking where he was, when he was gone for long periods. None of us did. It was common knowledge that he chose to be away, and would return on his own accord. We were young and innocent but understood this, children can feel it. You observe your surroundings, you watch and listen, and eventually draw your own conclusion.
Never did I think an issue with trust and security would later arise in my life, and without therapy, I would have the know to directly correlate it with a “Daddy issue”. I thought a Daddy issue meant, to have a direct issue with your father, a problem that you can name, that’s had a negative impact on your relationship…..So what if you don’t, but are simply trying to make sense of and understand HIS issues?!
It’s not easy explaining this, as simple as it should be, it’s quite complex and confusing. I will continue in my next post.
Every year I give Thanks to the Lord that I made it through. It’s been a long challenging year, but a good year, all things considered. I was happy to hear from a relative who’s dear to me, my great-grand aunt (83 years old) that raised my mother. Her call meant a lot to me, because I think of my Mother around this time of year. She told me that I crossed her mind, and she thought to call me. This gave me the opportunity to speak on Mom, and Thank her for doing such an impeccable job raising her. She Thanked me for ensuring that mom received a proper burial, and that was very important and significant to me. I felt a sense of accomplishment and relief, a beautiful note to start the holidays and end the year.
I think of my Mother and all of the great Christmas’s that she gave us. l’ve had folks question me about my take on Christmas. There isn’t a conversation or debate that hasn’t been had regarding Christmas since my teenage years. They assume that I don’t celebrate it, or acknowledge it, because I stopped putting up decorations a long time ago. I don’t scramble to spend money on the knick knacks that we’re “supposed” to buy, and I don’t expect presents from any of my loved ones. I don’t feel as though I have to keep up with the advertisements, store displays, or expectations of others. I cherish the memories of Christmas past, and try not to feel ungrateful.
The holiday obligations and fake stuff I can do without, and I’m glad that I don’t have to deal with it. I find it odd that people who are just a text or call away, choose to gather only on designated holidays. It looks more like a “photo op” than a genuine get together based on love, and appreciation for the birth of Jesus. If I was checking in on you all year, my text or call shouldn’t come as a surprise to you. I wish you well throughout the year.
Fell asleep while watching some video, and had one of those black out slumbers that provide me with a random, meaningful, detailed dream. I dreamt that me and a bunch of other people who I don’t know, were deep under water in some water world. We were all in human form, and able to breathe with no equipment. For some reason, we were in a classroom setting being instructed by a teacher. We were attentively listening as strict instructions were being dictated RE “swimming style rules”. Yes, swimming style rules. The teacher was telling us that we are NOT allowed to swim by using certain motions, and that we must only use motions that are unassuming, light, and inconspicuous. I was absolutely floored! I didn’t say a word, and continued to listen waiting to hear the logic in these strict instructions. I was confused, and thought to myself, “What the hell?!?! What difference does it make how we swim??? it’s our body!!!” I continued to listen puzzled asf, and heard someone from above yell out in protest, but I couldn’t see them. I then I awoke to a random video playing on my laptop, and thought ooooh! I gotta stop falling a sleep with videos playing. I knew however, that my dream was not because of that. These “uncertain times” have taken a toll on my subconscious, regardless of how well that I’ve navigated it all thus far. Believe it or not, this was actually one of my most “normal” dreams that I’ve had in the past two years. It was the underwater world that theme that I had me questioning myself though. I did not check a dream dictionary out of curiosity, there was no need in this case. We are in this world, but quickly being pushed into a New World that makes any other world seem normal…That was the first water world dream I’ve ever had. I hope you enjoyed!
It’s been a month since I posted, but I’m always writing nonetheless. There’s been so much on my mind and heart, much I was processing, so I decided to take a break from the topic of closure. So much to keep up with, as we continue to navigate our new norm. Summer is almost out the door, and a sunny day over twenty degrees is cherished, good as gold. It was becoming slightly chilly, but then surprisingly warmed up, now it’s back to chilly. It seems as though Summer is officially over and my beloved fall is here. Autumn the most beautiful season, my favourite season, as I’ve shared before. I love autumn, and I don’t mind the sun kissed brisk weather. I’m ready for the change in wardrobe light jackets, and hoodies, pashminas over a top, rustic colors and cute Fall boots. I can’t get enough of the fallen crunchy leaves, such beautiful colors, beautifying the simple sidewalk. Autumn can do no harm in my eyes, and I’m doing my best to enjoy it, regardless of these trying times.
There’s no way to explain the “social climate” at this point in time, I’m just observing and trying to maintain my energy, with every passing day. I stay mentally prepared, yet in awe of the constant announcements, and “discoveries” from the mainstream news. We are being constantly bombarded with new information that is imperative to our daily survival, yet confusing asf. Simplifying life as much as possible has been, and will continue to be the goal. I’m pretty sure you are keeping up with the local news, independent news, and so on. It seems as though we are all in the sameboat, and at the same time, not. The rules apply to all, and some, do not, which seems to be causing friction and dissension amongst friends and family. I find this to be very unfortunate, and counterproductive because all we have is us. It doesn’t make sense to go against one another at this point in time, as it will notelevate us to the level of the decision makers. Life may throw you a curve ball at any moment, and you could easily end up in the exact same position as your peer.
It seems as though we are going backwards, in many ways, which is very sad and disappointing. I have more to say, but will continue in my next post.
I had a little break down in the evening on August 28th, as I got home from the road. The severe thunderstorm started as I turned the corner to my place. I felt an eerie vibe, a touch of fear and panic that I have NOT felt before. I thought to myself, WOW. Her life, her legacy, overshadowed, and marred by others mistakes. I started to feel ashamed and disappointed. I thought the rain was representative of tears, and the thunder, anger. I have never been afraid of thunder or lightening, I’ve always found it quite beautiful and fascinating. This thunder sounded different this time, for the first time, it actually scared me, and moved me on the inside. As the rain began to fall harder, I quickened my steps and my heart beat sped up. I felt shame and sorrow, thoughts of her ashes scattered in water, hit me. Thoughts of her family, her sisters, her grand auntie & uncle that raised her, her mother, my father, her friends, the people who knew her before I did. It was done, permanent, no turning back. Although I was relieved, and didn’t want to dwell on it, I felt off about it. I called my cousin frantic, and cried as I explained what I was feeling. She allowed me to release, listened, and shared words of support. She told me by the way that I sounded when she answered the phone, she thought something had happened to me. She told me it was okay, and it’s understandable why I felt this way. The people who knew and loved her, who asked about her for years, were not able to be a part of it. I tried not to engage in those thoughts, but they sat on my conscience. For years I felt as though she had been dehumanized, even in life, and this was literally about her humanity. She deserved for this to only be about her, and the people who truly loved her. The energy and love she gave to us, to be reciprocated in this important ceremony. There’s nothing that I could do to change it, I could only share the good news with her loved ones. I called as many of them as I could, my Auntie’s her sisters who adored her. They were VERY HAPPY. I even told her mother, (grandma), who is 82 years old and still has her senses. I texted my father, and he called me immediately. He was VERY THANKFUL that I told him. Their happiness helped me feel actual trueclosure. The were shocked and elated, and relieved to have a place to go to honour her.
I felt light as a feather on that day. I made sure to get adequate rest, and be up early. I truly felt light, and airy, like a feather floating down the sidewalk. I felt free, untouchable, relaxed and zen. The weather was great, sunny and hot but not humid, as the previous days, which was refreshing! The weather definitely reflected my mood. I felt as though a weight had been lifted off my body. I felt balanced, and fair, my energy was quitely positive. Mom’s memory wasn’t being interrupted by guilt and regret. Mom’s day felt good now, she was given some dignity, while she rests. Those recent very short dreams of her sending me messages, probably will end.
There is more to my quest for closure, that involves forgiveness and releasing anger and rage. The soap opera drama created by others, as a distraction to avoid giving Mom her place, has changed me forever. I will continue in another blog.
Aug 30th marked the 10th anniversary of my Mother’s passing. I wanted to post about it, but I was consumed by a slew of emotions, mixedemotions at that. I didn’t feel to write, I didn’t feel to post on social media. I was going through it, and I wanted to feel it all, good and bad. I understand that allowing myself to go through it, would help bring me closer to achieving the closure I need. I’m blessed to have relatives that lend me their ear. They understand my journey, my hurt and pain regarding the situation. They loved my Mother dearly, and supported me as much as they could through the years.
There was so much going on in my mind, and my heart, on her birthday Aug 28th. It was confirmed a few days prior, that her burial site was finally complete. After all of these years, she finally has a place to commemorate her life at a cemetery. A memorial plaque by the water and beautiful nature, and her ashes were going be scattered in the water. A few of our relatives are buried there as well, my Uncle(her bestie/brother) and Grandpa( aka Daddy). I’m glad she has a spot there with them, she was very close with both of them, and they loved her dearly.
I had to take a few days to relax and reflect, on the whole ordeal. A decade of years of unnecessary drama surrounding Mom’s passing, has been an emotionally and spiritually draining experience. I was mentally prepared to lose her, but in no way could I prepare for a decade of battle and struggle surrounding her life. I came close to losing my life, as a result of the stress and pressure from it. That accident that I had back in 2017, that I shared with you, was partially due to the years of accumulated stress, guilt and pressure. I continued to dream her every so often, she was trying to tell me what I already knew. She wished to be settled, and for the group she gave life to, to release her.
My conscience, my soul could not stand to go through another anniversary knowing she didn’t have a place. She deserved so much more, and much sooner. I had a little break down in the evening on August 28th, as I got home from the road. The severe thunderstorm started as I turned the corner to my place. I felt an eerie vibe, a touch of fear and panic that I have NOT felt before. I thought to myself, WOW. Her life, her legacy, overshadowed, and marred by others mistakes. I started to feel ashamed and disappointed. I thought the rain was representative of tears, the thunder was anger…
It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon, the weather was close to perfect. I decided to hop on the streetcar and do a long walk, to a shop that I’d been meaning to go to pre-shutdown. I hadn’t visited this intersection in a year, and the last time I’d been round the corner I was a child. There was a restaurant that I wanted to go to, I was craving a bean burrito. I decided to walk down the people filled street, with restrictions lifted, it looked chaotic.
As I walked down the street, I was shocked at how busy it was! There were three times as many people, as the vacant street that I had walked down. There were pockets of homeless people, on both sides of the streets. I was taken aback, because I don’t remember this street being this way. My first instinct was to turn right back around and hop on the first bus back towards home. I felt overwhelmed, for a few seconds, very uneasy, uncomfortable, and I wasn’t sure why. I took a breath, and shook it off. I realized that I was allowing myself to let fear take over me. I was afraid to face the confusion of my childhood trauma, the feeling unsettled from constantly moving around. The places I had faint but yet strangely familiar memories of, walking with my Mother and all of us kids. I had no reason to let fear guide me now, and I wanted to see this strangely familiar street. This street resonated with my soul, as many streets in Toronto do. I decided to continue walking, and walk strong, as my mother always said to me.
I started to feel a sense of nostalgia, as I approached the local Toronto public library. I immediately wanted to pull out my phone to take a pic, but somebody was sitting on the grass in front, taking selfies. I didn’t want to disturb them, by pointing my phone towards them, as that may make them uncomfortable. I try to exercise good phone photo etiquette while in public, so I decided not to take the pic. I told myself that while the weather is good, I will be sure to return and take a photo.
As I waited for my food at a chill classic authentic Mexican restaurant, I felt a sense of relief. I was happy that I continued walking and exploring the block. I felt a sense of pride, and closure. I walked to the bus stop with the heaviest burrito I had ever bought in my life, and headed home.