0
contemplation
Posted by Slowplum
on
10/24/2003 06:41:00 AM
So yesterday I took a mental health day and skipped class. I have my reading caught up and know someone who will give me notes so I feel NO guilt whatsoever. I ended up messing about with the kids for a while, then I went over to my mom's and we went for a walk, then I helped her get her costume together for a presentation she has to make at work. They are all dressing up as Seuss characters so she is dressing up as the nook with the book on a hook (if you can tell me the reference I will give you a lollipop).
The walking part, while painful (remember: broken toe) was also refreshing and helped me pound out some of the frustration I've been having at work. It was also nice because it is like walking down a road to reparation between my mother and I. We never really talked when I was younger, and now with 45 minutes of walking you can't expect to be silent the whole time, so things are coming out and being discussed and for once she's actually hearing what I have to say. Mainly because she isn't distracted with her "womanly duties" like she is when I try to talk to her when she's at home.
Last night's conversation was about my grandfathers. It's sad that they are both gone now, and I still think about my father's father almost every day. I almost never think of my mother's father but when I do it is mostly anger.
Neither of them were saints but my mother's father was especially bad. And I felt cheated out of a grandfather because I happened to have one who was an abusive alcoholic womanizer who did not give a fuck about his family. I never went to his funeral, a thing I do not regret in the least. I refused to pay my respects to someone who never cared for me. And I refused to watch the hypocrasy that was rampant on that day.
My father's father, while having his own foibles, at the very least I can say he loved me, he loved all us grandkids, and he was around, and he was so... full of life. He had a prescence that just filled the room when he was there. And this big booming laugh. And I remember the last time I saw him, in the hospital, he seemed so small and scared, and I had never seen him like that before. It tore me to pieces and made me feel a thousand things that I cannot articulate right now. I showed him my newborn daughter on that day, at least I can say that he was alive to see his first great-grandchild. I miss him. I can't even begin to say how much.
I didn't mean for this post to turn out meloncholy. I think my mind is trying to do some spring cleaning of sorts (yes yes I know it is autumn shut up).
I have more to say but it is time to get the kids to the babysitter and for me to go to work.
Have a lovely day, folks
The walking part, while painful (remember: broken toe) was also refreshing and helped me pound out some of the frustration I've been having at work. It was also nice because it is like walking down a road to reparation between my mother and I. We never really talked when I was younger, and now with 45 minutes of walking you can't expect to be silent the whole time, so things are coming out and being discussed and for once she's actually hearing what I have to say. Mainly because she isn't distracted with her "womanly duties" like she is when I try to talk to her when she's at home.
Last night's conversation was about my grandfathers. It's sad that they are both gone now, and I still think about my father's father almost every day. I almost never think of my mother's father but when I do it is mostly anger.
Neither of them were saints but my mother's father was especially bad. And I felt cheated out of a grandfather because I happened to have one who was an abusive alcoholic womanizer who did not give a fuck about his family. I never went to his funeral, a thing I do not regret in the least. I refused to pay my respects to someone who never cared for me. And I refused to watch the hypocrasy that was rampant on that day.
My father's father, while having his own foibles, at the very least I can say he loved me, he loved all us grandkids, and he was around, and he was so... full of life. He had a prescence that just filled the room when he was there. And this big booming laugh. And I remember the last time I saw him, in the hospital, he seemed so small and scared, and I had never seen him like that before. It tore me to pieces and made me feel a thousand things that I cannot articulate right now. I showed him my newborn daughter on that day, at least I can say that he was alive to see his first great-grandchild. I miss him. I can't even begin to say how much.
I didn't mean for this post to turn out meloncholy. I think my mind is trying to do some spring cleaning of sorts (yes yes I know it is autumn shut up).
I have more to say but it is time to get the kids to the babysitter and for me to go to work.
Have a lovely day, folks