Dearest Readers ~
I am going to do something a little different with this post. Instead of posting a memory, I want to give a few lines to the thoughts spinning in my head.
One of the primary rules (one of many) that was beat into my head on a daily basis was to not talk about family business outside of the family. This is the number one rule of child abuse cases. The ones involved don’t speak out because of fear of retaliation. With each and every post I do, I want to look over my shoulder to make sure Jack A. isn’t standing there, looming over me with that smile on his face.
My husband isn’t Kim’s biggest fan and he’s my biggest supporter and believes that I should cut the ties. After I made the post with a copy of the letter to my mother, I started to think.
Should I keep my mother in my life? I know in my head, the answer is NO. In the grand tradition of things, my head and my heart clash. I blame Kim for not protecting me. I don’t trust her and the only consistency she has ever exhibited is letting me down. I know that in any situation with her, I’m going to be disappointed. So with this being said, I have this carnal, momma bear image in my heart with the number one priority of protecting my cubs. I am worried about Kim even being around them. In the past year, she has become an alcoholic and has put her boyfriend (they’ve been together for a couple of years now) before, primarily, my sister. Suzie is now eighteen and hasn’t lived with my mother since she was fifteen. I personally know what damage can come from Kim putting someone before her children.
On the other side of the coin, I am in love with being a mom. My girls are so amazing and with each day and the privilege of being their mom, I learn something new. I am like any proud mom. I don’t believe there is a person on this planet, or any other, that could resist the pure cuteness of my little girls. I should be able to share them with my mom and dad. They should think they are the cutest just like I do. So, deep down, I don’t want to take that opportunity away from her.
There’s a cold and hard truth that I have to come to terms with. I will elaborate on this in a minute.
Kim, among many other blood relatives, are on my Facebook. I was reading a post on Kim’s wall from a person she had lost contact with many years ago. A friend from her past. One of the first questions was, how I’m doing and if Kim was still with Jack A. Kim then proceeds to state that I am grown and have moved away. That she’s a grandmother and it’s my fault that she doesn’t ever get to see them. It’s no surprise that she has put the blame on me. Kim has made flight arrangements to come see me. Her boyfriend got into a wreck, specifically, a DWI on a motorcycle. She cancelled the plane tickets in order to get some money back so she could help HIM pay for his legal bills. Aside from that, I keep my relatives on my Facebook because I have one surviving grandparent. She’s Kim’s mother and the one that took care of me when my mother went to prison. I worry that if I were to stop communicating with any one of them, if something were to happen to my Grandma, they wouldn’t tell me.
Kim and I are heading for a confrontation. The only thing… the only string holding me back, is that my Grandma means more to me than she does.
Referring back to the cold, hard truth… Kim has never been a mom to me and I don’t trust her enough to have her as an influence on my girls. I have to say that enough times that the feelings from my head change the feelings that are in my heart.
I’m resigned to the fact that I don’t have a mother figure. From the events of my life, I have become a strong and independent individual. I KNOW that I can confidently go through the rest of my life without the regret that I didn’t give her enough chances.
One day my girls are going to ask me about my parents. Predominantly, they are going to ask who they are and why they aren’t around. I have kept a written journal of my posts here. When they are old enough to understand, I am going to give it to them. There are two results that will come from it. They will feel sorry for me which isn’t what I want. If you are reading this post, I don’t want you to feel sorry for me or the experiences of my life. I want my girls (and my readers) to see the strength it took… to keep going. To endure, to live, and to come to a point that I could say… THEY DIDN’T WIN!
With much respect and thanks,