lessons

"the expectations of "what is supposed to be happening" has been set up by me-"

Hi Maggie,

These words that you shared from your retreat have come to mean so much to me...

Ever since you called to tell me that Dad died, he didn't make it through surgery,  I have been expecting to behave normally. But I'm not...

I haven't started crying yet. I am still on the inhale...I am still in suspended animation...still waiting...for what?  I don't know.

I did not sleep much last night.  I was calmly awake, talking to Dad, all night long.

When you told me, I felt a huge pressure down, hard, on my heart, and then it disappeared. I felt like someone jumped, landed on my heart, then bounced away.

I asked about that and got images. We are supposed to be connected by cords, really flexible, stretchy cords, of golden or silver light.  When there is abuse, we use boulders and knots and heavy, coarse cords to bind each other. Those boulders silence and control us.  The weight leaving my heart was Dad's boulder dissolving.

And so I went looking and found I am inappropriately attached to my children. My anger, my screaming - it was abuse. And so I detached and reattached in a more properly maternal manner.

I checked lots of relationships and changed them.

Either I am crazy, or looking for escapes from reality, or things are going to improve.

I talked to Dad about raping infants and abuse and how that taught his sons to rape his daughters. And I sent a loud message to Pop.  He had better be on his knees begging forgiveness when Dad walks into the Light.  He had no right to abuse his son...but I acknowledge that he learned at the hands of his father and so on back through the slime that continues to pollute the Delanas.

I told Dad that I never felt loved.  I never felt safe.  I remembered a few moments...one when he was sitting on the front porch swing when we had some of the young Viet Namese kids over to play. He was looking out across the field, and he said, "When I see those kids, I just remember everything that happened to our boys over there."  He was trapped in pain, but being open and vulnerable.

Another time he was reading a book, and when I walked in, he looked up and started talking about the impact the book was having on him.

I told him I wished we had more of those moments and fewer of the ones where he threatened to come to my house and shoot me if he caught my cold.

I called him on that one...at the time.

And so I am going to clean my house and shower and wait for the tears.  They are in there, I feel the pressure...

How are you, Love?

Love and hugs from Clare