"You're a long time gone...keepin' your secrets for too long. Baby, you ain't half of what you used to be....in this dim October sky, I've got no tears left to cry...And I'm finally learning you can't be too strong....I'm a long time gone" - Gin Blossoms, Long Time Gone.
Well, since it's my topic...I'd better write on it.
I went to church Sunday, as I do most Sundays (not all, sadly, in the winter I am a sloth who has trouble rising before 9 when the sun comes up unless it involves going somewhere warm or getting paid to show up to work). As one of the ladies I work with says, I don't go to church so much because I think I have to in order to keep my faith, but I'd hate to see what kind of person I'd be if I didn't go. She said that about her, not me. I think.
I had already sent out the topic, and had some idea of what I would write about. But then it was the Women's service at the church as happens once a year. Yeah, you'd think I'd know that. But I'm not terribly involved other than showing up, worshiping and giving money. Lutherans aren't the most friendly bunch in the world, and while I really like our Pastor, who's in his early 30s and, for a Pastor, fairly liberal in his ideas, I don't fit in with his "group" who are about his age, and I don't fit in with the older people, (i.e. anyone 10 years older than me) because they just seem very comfortable with each other, and despite the fact they've seen my mug on and off for 15 years, they don't seem to interested in pursuing a conversation, and as I've mentioned before I'm shy. (note to Kristi - when Shane has a church, make darned sure you go talk to that nice lady in her early 40's who's standing off to the side and isn't quite sure how to proceed. She'll love you for it).
So, anyhoo, there I am in church, led by the ladies, and very nicely, too. Then the woman who was doing the sermon got up. And, kids, she rocked my world. I'm not quite sure what to make of it. I thought I knew at first, but now I'm not sure how to pull it off.
What I've taken from my experiences a "Long Time Gone" is that you can do something with the best of intentions and be brutally, totally, and completely punished for it. Due to my not being the primary custodial parent the majority of the time since Big Bit started school, I've had everything from people who broke off conversations upon finding out my situation to "family" members saying (though not to my face, of course) that I was probably unfit or at the very least an extremely poor mother for not being in the same town as my child. (Please note, one of these family member should be investigated by Child Protective Services, and I'm not the only person who thinks that. So I thought she had a lot of nerve. No, she doesn't read this, so it's not any of you). I had someone tell me when I announced I was pregnant "Oh (bleep)". I took this as an assumption that I would not be able to keep custody or raise a second child effectively.
In fact, I will note for the historical record, there has never been any allegation I'm unfit. I just had the cojones to stand up for myself, and to some guys, that is enough of a crime.
I knew my truth, why I did make certain decisions and not others. Certain decisions were made by "independent" third parties who at the end of the day didn't seem independent at all. I've made my peace with that part of it, as it were. I don't claim to be without blame. I have plenty and I take responsibility. But I can't stand to even hear EHFH's voice anymore.
The woman, who had also been through a bad divorce, though one with different parameters than mine, said that you have to forgive. Not for the other person, but for yourself. I've heard this before, in other times and places, but this time it really hit me. Whether you believe in Christianity or you think it's bunk, this is a precept that does make a lot of sense.
You see, Friday is Big Bit's 18th birthday. I've been going through this crap for SIXTEEN YEARS. Let me repeat: SIXTEEN years. And while when I got divorced I had no hard feelings as such towards EHFH, he has made it his mission over the last SIXTEEN years to make my life a living hell whenever possible. His actions have pretty much made what affection remained morph into something pretty close to hatred. And while he hasn't always succeeded in his quest, he's succeeded enough to make me more than regret giving him that power. If you add in our married and divorced time, it's coming up on 25 years. That's a lifetime.
So I resolve to forgive on Sunday night. And I'm feeling very "Christlike in my love and forgiveness" to paraphrase the Church (not my Church but "the one true Church"). Then Big Bit calls me last night to talk to me about his FAFSA that has to be filed so he can get qualified for his scholarships, private grants, etc. He and his father are yelling at each other. Not screaming, but yelling pretty loud. I flashback to being afraid, with a two year old in a diaper in my arms, backing up towards a refrigerator, with a very enraged man in my face. I tell Big Bit that I have to get off the phone.
"Call me when you're done". I know it's not serious, honestly. I know they're just both mad, not violent in any way. Big Bit is 6 foot tall and at least 185 lbs. But it gives me the heebie jeebies.
Then, when Big Bit calls back, and I explain that I couldn't stay on the phone because it was creeping me out, he has the raw nerve to say "You aren't good with confrontation".
Oh, I'm good with confrontation, son. I held you in my arms ready to defend you to the end with your dad screaming in our faces. I'm glad you don't remember. I confronted 12 hours of labor only to go through major surgery to have you. And I'm glad I did. I bought my lawyer a freakin' Corvette to try and keep you with me. I'm just not good with screaming.
It's obviously hard to forgive. But it's a long time gone, and I'm tired of secrets. And yelling. It is time to forgive. Wish me good luck, I'm going to need it.
Other than posting pics of Big Bit's graduation which may include pictures of him, this is the last time I will mention that man, forgiveness or no. It's time for that as well.
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6 comments:
So many memories. A person writes a reflection on their past and it touches yours. Takes you back to a time, a specific feeling, and you think, "Wow, she's a like soul, she's been there. Now it makes so much sense."
Big Bit seems like a really nice kid, quick to smile, happy. But at some point you do need to tell him don't pass judgement off on you when he's angry at something else. You don't deserve and he doesn't have the right. Sometimes honesty is the best policy... when served with ice cream and time.
I applaud and support your choice to stop mentioning "him". You've done pretty darned well for yourself in the years since the divorce and you should definitely take some pride in that.
Also, I have no problem admitting that you're my cousin (Packer fandom aside). :) And whomever in our family made such inappropriate comments really should think before speaking. That was damned rude of them.
You know how to reach me if you feel the need. You know I got your back, cous.
-Cousin Steve
Maybe try blog-stalking some of your fellow church-goers to see if they are worth your friendship? I dunno, seemed to work for you before. ;) Hope that they get around to making you feel welcome soon.
Congratulations on making it through all of the painful years it's taken to see Big Bit turn 18. It's unfortunate that you've had to deal with so much sh*t in so many ways—but idiots will be idiots and jerks will be jerks. You are a very strong and capable person and I think you're awesome.
Cele - he is a nice kid. He is usually so nice and thoughtful that I forget he's a teenager. I am going to talk to him this weekend, but I think he knew he hurt my feelings.
Thanks Steve - I try to do better. I need to give you a call and catch up.
Yvette - sadly, none of them seem "geeky" enough to have a blog. But I'll check it out, you never know. Back at you on the awesomeness you super student, you.
As a parent, you always want to protect your child, but there comes a point when they have reached the age and have a right to know. My mom never wanted to bad-talk my dad... but there comes a point when you have to recognize that telling the truth, isn't bad-talking... and by not telling him the truth, you are robbing him of a chance to grow and of a lesson to be learned. It might hurt him.... He might not believe it (though it sounds to me that he has enough reason to), and he might not be ready to hear all of it at once... but he has a right to know.
And you have the right to tell. That might be the most important point to get across. For 16 years you've taken it, now he's grown up, an adult... and you don't have to take it anymore. Understand that he might have some "ideas" about what happened, wrong or right, supposed or helped along by the ex... His comment that you aren't good with confrontation sounds like it might have had a little feeling behind it. Be blunt. Tell your son that it's not confrontation that you have a problem with, but that when you hear that kind of screaming and yelling, it takes you back to the fear... You don't have to protect him soooo much anymore, and you surely can't just offer yourself up to any anger he might have over the situation. It's time to be fair to BOTH of you.
Maybe I'm way off the mark here. I just know how I felt as the "truth" was slowly revealed to me, and in a way... it was liberating. I felt that some of my feelings were finally justified.. And I vowed I knew that would never be me......
Psam - no, you're spot on with your thoughts. I have over the last few years shared some things, but my ex pulled some horrendous crap two years ago in Utah that really exposed who he was to my son once and for all without me saying much of anything. It was sufficiently evil that Big Bit ended up going back to live with his dad, mostly because he was afraid I would get hurt. Physically.
Yeah, good times.
Unfortunately, he still seems to care about the guy. I guess you probably do about your dad too, I know you can't just shut it off.
I'm pretty honest with Big Bit now about my feelings towards his dad. I think it was hormones the other night, but I intend to discuss it this weekend. Though I'm "bad at confrontation".
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