The Second Half

I have decided to journal and write my memoirs at the same time.  I hope that one day my children will see this and understand me a little better.  And if they never see it I hope that it will, at least, help me to understand myself better.

I discovered as I approach 50 years old that I have changed so much and find that the next few decades will be an adventure I never could have imagined.  I had my life well planned.  At least I had an idea of how I wanted it to go.  I grew up on 1970s TV family shows.  Little House On the Prairie, The Waltons, Green Acres,  Bonanza, The Dick Van Dyke Show, Happy Days.  There was a mom and dad who loved God, country and family.  As to the first two shows which I watched religiously, God, the church, faith, morals and values were the center of family life.  In my own home, I had a mom and dad in which God once played an important role.  I had parents who had morals and values and tried to use these to raise and discipline us.  There were three of us children.  We took vacations together.  Spent weekends together.  We lived in the same town that my parents were raised in, the same schools they attended and the same town as our grandparents lived.

And so, I thought, my life would go as my parents and their parents and their parents.  I thought I would have children that would want to be a part of a family and be a part of something as old as the creation itself.  Family.

However, something that I did not take into account and that my children still can't seem to grasp is that I am human.  A sinner.  Weak.  Flawed!  They have decided to blame us for things in their life. They have demanded apologies.  They have attempted to keep our grandchildren from us.  Too many years of pain and now I am numb.  So I turn to this.  To be able to see my thoughts and read them back.  To make sense of the madness that has darkened my motherhood.

I have a long lasting secret schedule with my eight children in order to make them each feel special. Every month on the date of their birthday I set an hour or so aside to do something just with them. Or I make sure I let them know how much I love them.  As they got older I would send them a random text, email or card on that day and tell them the same.  The older three are adults who no longer feel they need that love from me.  So, I am going to fill the years left with notes to them.  They will be referred to by their child number and a fake name in order to protect them.  I am not writing them to hurt them.  I am writing it for my healing and to help other parents out there who are hurt by their adult children.  I am writing it so that one day they will know how terribly much I love them.  They have shut me out.  They can longer hear and feel my love.  My comfort in their rejection is knowing I have 5 other children.  My fear for them is they only have one mother and once I'm gone I will never be able to say these things again.