I had a dream last night. Dad wanted me to get an apartment on my own. He actually thought I had and was angry when he still found me living at home. I was going to school and had no job, so I explained that I thought he meant when I finished school and had a job. He informed me I had it wrong - he meant now.
Is it time to move on in some way? Time to start taking ownership of my own life and stop looking up or over my shoulder and hoping (mom and) dad would approve? How deeply rooted the voices of our parents can be in our lives.
Funny how I feel all grown up, but have yet to fully proclaim and own my independence.
1/30/2010
(sung to the Simon & Garfunkel classic "The Sound of Silence": "Hello darkness, my old friend....(got it?)"
Hello, Blo-og, my old friend,
I left you out behind the bend.
I haven't written for a long, long time.
So much stuff is sittin' on my mind.
It's time to let it go,
and share it with the world -
or just maybe you....
It's time to try
some blogging....
Fool, I am, I walked away.
Wandering alone all day.
Thinking silly thoughts inside my mind.
People smiled and treated me so kind.
But deep inside,
I knew it wasn't well...
oh, could they tell?
It's time to try
some blogging....
Hello, Blo-og, my old friend,
I left you out behind the bend.
I haven't written for a long, long time.
So much stuff is sittin' on my mind.
It's time to let it go,
and share it with the world -
or just maybe you....
It's time to try
some blogging....
Fool, I am, I walked away.
Wandering alone all day.
Thinking silly thoughts inside my mind.
People smiled and treated me so kind.
But deep inside,
I knew it wasn't well...
oh, could they tell?
It's time to try
some blogging....
9/13/2009
Comfort in an Old Coat
Life has thrown me a curve ball these past couple of months. There has been lots of uncertainty, leading into insecurity, leading into more than a couple of meltdowns.
I've found a sense of security in putting on dad's brown coat. Fortunately, the summer weather cooled enough so I don't look too ridiculous wearing it. But why, dad? I dreamt last night of mom, not dad. I always dream of mom around times like this. She's alive and cured. Her cancer is gone and she is healing. But she is always separate from dad. In fact, in one reoccurring dream, she is actually separated from dad and getting a divorce.
But during the day, it is dad. Maybe because dad was pragmatic. His coat symbolizes that. On the outside, it looks uncomplicated and very simple. Who would know that there are so many pockets and hidden pockets? It looks suede, but is faux; people warn me not to wear it in the rain, but I can. It is warm, but not too hot. It is the closest thing to family that I have.
And maybe that's it. This silly coat brings me the closest to family that I can get right now. Times like this can leave us feeling very much alone. No one wants to talk of illness; no one wants to plan or anticipate or speculate or fear or dread or hope. And perhaps therein lies another reason I wear this coat.
Where was I when dad had no one? Where was I when he was full of fear and alone? Where was I when he was confused and frightened by what the doctors had to tell him? He did that all alone. Who did he talk to? Where did he go?
I am trying so hard to not repeat the same mistake with the people in my life now, as I did with dad. But it's hard. And made harder by being in an environment where full disclosure is not allowed. Where you can talk to people but only about so much. Where you can talk to some people, but not others. It is a topsy-turvey world in which knowing is relative, literally.
I am fearful of what lies ahead. I'm questioning my ability to get through it. It's hard to do when you can't speak your truth or can only speak it in certain environs. I am tired, frustrated, anxious, scared, depressed, worried, fearful, angry, alone. So I wear dad's coat. And I hope.
I've found a sense of security in putting on dad's brown coat. Fortunately, the summer weather cooled enough so I don't look too ridiculous wearing it. But why, dad? I dreamt last night of mom, not dad. I always dream of mom around times like this. She's alive and cured. Her cancer is gone and she is healing. But she is always separate from dad. In fact, in one reoccurring dream, she is actually separated from dad and getting a divorce.
But during the day, it is dad. Maybe because dad was pragmatic. His coat symbolizes that. On the outside, it looks uncomplicated and very simple. Who would know that there are so many pockets and hidden pockets? It looks suede, but is faux; people warn me not to wear it in the rain, but I can. It is warm, but not too hot. It is the closest thing to family that I have.
And maybe that's it. This silly coat brings me the closest to family that I can get right now. Times like this can leave us feeling very much alone. No one wants to talk of illness; no one wants to plan or anticipate or speculate or fear or dread or hope. And perhaps therein lies another reason I wear this coat.
Where was I when dad had no one? Where was I when he was full of fear and alone? Where was I when he was confused and frightened by what the doctors had to tell him? He did that all alone. Who did he talk to? Where did he go?
I am trying so hard to not repeat the same mistake with the people in my life now, as I did with dad. But it's hard. And made harder by being in an environment where full disclosure is not allowed. Where you can talk to people but only about so much. Where you can talk to some people, but not others. It is a topsy-turvey world in which knowing is relative, literally.
I am fearful of what lies ahead. I'm questioning my ability to get through it. It's hard to do when you can't speak your truth or can only speak it in certain environs. I am tired, frustrated, anxious, scared, depressed, worried, fearful, angry, alone. So I wear dad's coat. And I hope.
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