What if...

When I am at home, I am on a regular schedule.  While here, my schedule is unreliable.  I will be posting as catch-can.  I had a very early morning work session, and so I have some time in the quiet now to reflect on life.  I am going to take advantage of it, even though it's not my turn!

I have been thinking about my anger and rages when my kids were young.  I would be calm for a long period of time, then something would set me off and I would start yelling.  I would yell about everything.  I think now about how terrifying it must have been for my kids.  Their safe mommy was this fireball to be avoided at all costs.  But it was in their home, and there was no escape.

I know now I was discharging pain.  They didn't know that, although logically, now, they all know it.  But logic doesn't count in this situation.  I am becoming more and more convinced that we store memories in various places in our beings, and logic does not connect.

So, when I was raging, what would have helped?  What if someone would have intervened?  What would I have wanted to hear?  I know I would have been humiliated.  And I don't think it would have helped.  It would only have added to the pain.  What can we say or do to be lovingly, acceptingly open and really make a difference.  (Not sure if this is a rhetorical question or not...)

I have also been considering patterns.  I married a man who was a polite version of our dad.  The politeness seemed to make everything different.  But what I got was someone distant, who could not connect, who was hiding in his addictions, who was a bit bigoted then increasingly nasty and mean as the alcohol pickled his brain.  I understand now that I thought - if I could get this version of dad to love me, then I was loveable and worthy of being here.  But that was a self-defeating attempt.  Instead I fed his addictions, allowing him to flee deeper into oblivion and escape and I was never loved.  The abandonment continued.  Neither one of us benefited from the relationship...well, I did learn powerful lessons, which is the point of being here, I suppose.

So the next question becomes:  What could dad have done or have said (or even: What could he do or say) to change my core belief?  If he would have apologized and told me none of our problems were my fault (You damn kids, it's all your fault resounds in my brain.) would the damaged child cowering inside me believe him?

In this household it may be that my son married a version of his occasionally raging mother.  If he can get this woman to love and accept him, then he proves he is lovable and worthy.  But I know from experience this won't work.  So, I have to find a time and place to apologize and share my understanding.  But that will be logical...how do I access the child that I hurt so many years ago.  Can I convince him that all of me loves him, all of the broken pieces that hurt him in the past.  I love him.

I love them both so much.  And they are both so good, but damaged by alcoholic violence.  I just want to lead the way out of the pain...

I love you and I apologize for leaving nail prints in your leg...

Clare

Thinking back, maybe it's serendipity.  Maybe we have to stay open and wait for inspiration from Spirit.  My changing moment came through tears and a friend's insistence that I go to Al-Anon.  She offered a Me, too, telling me she recognized her first marriage in mine.  She just happened to call at the exact right time.

So my prayer is:  Let me present at the right time.  Lead me through love and wisdom.  Let me be vulnerable.