My grandson came to help me in the garden yesterday. He is a great companion. We went inside when it started thundering and raining, but later, when we saw sun, he wanted to go back outside. So we did, of course. It's my job as adoring grandmother! When we got out, we were both barefoot, and we noticed it was raining while the sun was shining, so we charged to the road in front of the house, looking for the rainbow. As I was out there, barefoot, in a mud puddle with wet grass sparkling in the late afternoon sunshine, I suddenly had a different vision of wild. Rather than the Wild Woman who does outrageous things that shock and amuse others, perhaps I want to be like the wild flowers. I want to be undomesticated and retreat into nature. I'm halfway there (if not more) anyway! Perhaps my wild is not exactly human, or understood or appreciated by human.
How often do you remember your dreams? It sounds like you have a lot more access to your dream-time self than I do. I go through periods where I remember several every night. Then I go through an equal-seeming period when I remember nothing.
Can I ask about some questions your dream? Was last night the first time you saw a face? Was his smile evil or friendly? How did his looking into your eyes make you feel? What was his reaction as you pushed the ladder away? How did you feel? If you can, I would suggest you ask who he is. I have no idea of what kind of answer to expect, but I do suspect it will mean something.
And you did protect yourself. You found your voice, you found your strength. This is powerfully good!!
And as I said before - scream. I expect to hear you all the way to my house! We were silenced, by the family, by our church and culture. Scream and scream loud!
I knew S married young and that he was abusive. It all happened before I was born, so Uncle F. was the husband I knew best. I have a slightly different interpretation. I think perhaps Uncle F. was "too healthy" for her. Remember that S was raised in an alcoholic/codependent household with daily drunkenness. No matter how wonderful her parents were, it was still chaotic, dramatic and dysfunctional. Uncle F. was stable and a bit of a homebody, but he went to a lot of parties with his wife, and they entertained a lot. After they had their son, F. was more home oriented. Who knows what happened...I have learned to never judge because only the people inside the marriage understand it. Her third husband, C. was a friend of Grampa Smoke's. I remember that when she began to go out with him Dad and his brother B threatened to go after him and teach him a lesson. Strange reaction...
And remember, C. drank a lot. And regularly. Maybe she found Daddy. I know I married someone who was very similar to Dad. I think subconsciously I thought that if I could get my husband to love me, then I would have been worth Dad's love. I lost!! Both times!!
So there is the question you posed...what was wrong in her life? What took this tall, vibrant, funny and fun-loving woman and destroyed her? Why did she succumb so quickly to such an aggressive disease?
You do look like her. You resemble that side of the family. My oldest daughter has S name as her middle name. She is also tall, slender, social...she has the best of our aunt, although she struggles too.
I feel protected from breast cancer. With five kids, I ended up breastfeeding for over 13 years. That provided physiological protection, but it also shows I have a different attitude toward my breasts, and toward nurture and giving. I remember having a typical (I hope - I can never tell how strange we are) conversation with Cousin L when I was almost a teen. If you were naked and someone came, would you cover your breasts or your crotch. We both said breasts, and I don't know why, but it indicates something about the sexual messages we got from family and culture. Mom and Grandma both freaked out as I started developing, and tried to shame me into modesty. Our breasts were vulnerable, desirable, shameful...there were a lot of control issues. Is that why the cancer affected the breasts of sisters from that family? Personally, I believe my health vulnerabilities will be cardiovascular, like Grammy. I am suffering from a broken heart. I am not whole-hearted, and I am searching for way to heal. I need some loving duct tape!
I noticed we mostly talked about Dad's parents and brothers. Now I only think about Mom's sisters. Her oldest sister also died of cancer. I remember the letter she wrote the Christmas before she died. She showed me the gift of knowing you were dying. There was time to say goodbye. She married someone who had a hard time keeping a job, so there was chaos there. But since they lived so far away, I never felt like I knew them. I remember Mom saying her sister was upset that the younger sister married first. And Mom said she used to fall in love and make life plans with almost any man who paid attention to her. There is someone who didn't feel loved. I never knew her, but I always had the feeling that we would have understood each other. We were both the oldest who were ousted quickly and forced to grow up and be responsible and invisible. She is sort of missing from the family stories. That is probably because she lived so far away, but also because she was in the shadows of her siblings; even though she was as good a pianist as Mom. She looked most like Grammy, while Mom looks more like Grampa Smoke's mother.
Do you think which side of the family we resemble influences reactions to us by our parents and extended family?
What do you remember of that side of the family? What strikes you as noteworthy?
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