Tag Archives: choice

Today was like…

…an emotional roller coaster. It’s Father’s Day, and I usually spend the whole day pretty sad missing, and thinking about, my dad and everything he’s missed out on, and everything I missed out on. But today was different. In fact, I didn’t get sad or teary until about an hour ago. I had other things on my mind. 

For the past few days I have been anxiously waiting for a childhood friend, Nicole, to make it to Vegas so I could drive down and see her. We met in 6th grade. We went to school together and were best friends, hanging out every chance we had. We bonded over the loss of our fathers, and our tough/harsh maternal figures, and NKOTB (what were we thinking?!?)…our lives were very similar back then, with some minor differences. The summer between 9th and 10th grade my family moved out of state. I hated my mom for making us move away (I had no concept of financial hardships at the time) and I vowed that I would make her so miserable that she would send me back “home”. Little did I know how devastating our move was to Nicole. We were inseparable, until our move separated us. We returned to our hometown for a visit the following summer. I don’t remember how long we were in town, but it wasn’t long enough. I was able to get in a visit with Nicole, and wanted to go back every year to visit her. Neither of us knew that we would not see each other again for 25 years. 

We lost contact after that visit. Many years passed and my mom contacted me to let me know that a letter had arrived at the family home for me from Nicole. I got the letter a few days later and responded. We wrote back and forth for a while, and talked on the phone occasionally…and then life happened. We lost contact again. I would occasionally look for her on Facebook, but didn’t have any luck. Just a few years ago she sent me a friend request. Life kept us both pretty busy, but we were better about keeping up with each other through Facebook. Our lives had taken parallel paths, both of us having many similar experiences, even our ex’s share the same first name (yes, I think all men that I have encountered with that first name have been asshats). We are both in a better place. 

I was so stressed out about seeing her today, the first time in 25 years, and I have changed a lot, I guessed that she did too. What if we don’t recognize each other? Which is kinda dumb because we see each other’s pictures on Facebook. What if she doesn’t like me anymore? What if I don’t like her anymore? What if we have nothing to talk about? J and I arrived at her hotel and she was coming down to meet us. As soon as we saw each other we smiled and hugged. It was so great to see her face light up, and I was put at ease. I couldn’t see myself, but I think I lit up too. We walked around trying to find a place to eat and talk. When we finally found a place we started talking like we were picking up where we left off. J said she heard Nicole say things and she thought to herself “That’s exactly what mom would say.”, and she’s right, it was what I would say. We talked about our kids and how both B and J were named after her. We talked about family and struggles and blessings and progress and church. An amazing visit, and the food was good too. We had to say goodbye too soon, but we both agreed to not go so long before seeing each other again. 

As J and I drove home I was replaying the visit and past things people have said to me about every friend I made after her. I have had some real doozies. I have picked some “real winners”. I suddenly came to the realization that I had never had a friend as true, loyal, reliable, understanding, compassionate…the list goes on…as she was to me. In every relationship there is some give and some take. For the majority of relationships I have had, there has always been more giving on my part and more taking on theirs, but not with Nicole. I think we both gave back as much, if not more, than we took. I cannot think of another friend who has been that way with me. 

Forward to an hour ago when I started texting my brothers to tell them happy Father’s Day, since I was traveling, catching up with Nicole, and having dinner with Jay and J, and by the time I got the chance to call the boys, it was too late. I got more emotional as I wrote each text. I made sure to let them know how much I look to up to each of them. I am sad that I don’t have the close relationships with them that I wish I had, and the ones I feel close to, I struggle with because of my emotional hurt. I have to find a healthy way to release grudges and hurts so I can move past the hurts. I miss my dad. I remember being a daddy’s girl. Maybe I remember right, and maybe I don’t, but I remember his love for me. I’m heartbroken, grateful and happy this Father’s Day. Happy Father’s Day to the many men in my life, present and past, who have had a positive impact on my life and the woman I’ve become. 

Life changes. Experiences change us. We change. Friends come and go from our lives. True friends may leave our lives, but reconnect as if no time has passed. True friends are selfless and love you for being you. I’m lucky enough to have one. 


House Rules…

…are apparently negotiable (at least some people think they are). I was raised in an LDS family. Mom tried to teach me at an early age how important church is in having a happy life. It’s a lesson that I really began to grasp when I was married to my ex-husband and living across the country from my family. I had fallen away from the church as a result of hurt feelings and feeling a lack of compassion and support from local church leaders before I got married. My ex husband and I were living with his dad and step mom and I was no longer allowed to attend my church. I had to attend theirs or lose the roof over my head. Not being allowed to attend my church left a big impression on me and I finally understood what mom tried to teach me so many years before. Another lesson I learned about church was that the rules and guidelines put in place by the church are less about controlling and limiting the people, and more about protecting them and helping them to live a truly happy life. Drugs, alcohol, and sex can give you the illusion of happiness, but when the consequences hit, the misery sets in. Only when we protect ourselves from this stuff are we truly happy.

Now, years later and remarried with a good sized family that is spread across many states and countries, I want to be able to maintain a certain spirit, or feeling, in my home. I consider myself to be a pretty strict parent. I see the potential my children have and I expect them to live up to that potential. I have children who drink, smoke, do drugs, have sex outside of marriage, and I am hard on them. When they come into my home they know that I do not allow that stuff in my home. They will quickly be removed from my home if the rules are not followed. They know this and yet they still have a choice. They are welcome to leave anytime they feel the rules are not worth following. I know it sounds harsh. I have many children (natural, step, adopted, foster, etc.) and I have to protect the ones who are too young or immature to protect themselves. I also need to protect my home and myself.

I have begun to notice issues with my husband becoming far more relaxed on the issue of following rules. He will encourage others to break the rules, often unintentionally, but encourage them still the same. I will tell one or more of the children to do something and he will give them an easier, or lesser, job to do, or just tell them to do the bare minimum to get by. I know my family hates when I yell, and they all know this will lead to me yelling, so I don’t understand why he does it. We currently have 2 of our kids, and temporary custody of another child living with us, and trying to get full custody of yet another. Gaining custody of these kids is important to both of us, at least he says it’s important to him, so why does he continue to allow turmoil in our home that could jeopardize these kids well being. I just don’t get it.

I know he’s a good dad, but I wonder how long until he becomes so absent minded that it all goes down the drain. Some days I feel like we’re pretty close to hitting that point. I have to be strong. I have always felt like the mean parent. I know it comes from the years of him being a weekend dad to 3 of them, and always feeling like he had to buy their love. This was a cycle that started long before I came into the picture, and he allowed it to continue until it became normalized. I felt forced into the role of bad cop while my husband enjoyed playing good cop. Since I came in to the family at the height of this cycle, I could see the damaging effects much clearer than the others could, but I was too late to fix it. I hope that someday they will understand why I am the kind of parent I am.