Archive for the ‘honoring’ Category

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My Sister

February 16, 2010

My sister had a brave heart. She was beautiful and childlike. She was a fighter who would not give up. She was trapped…caught in an unseen web that was too sticky for her to break free from. They had her where they wanted her.

My sister ran away from one cult family right into the arms of another…but she didn’t know. Neither of us did. At that time, we were both amnesic to our true history.

I wonder…did she ever figure it out before she died? Did she finally remember her childhood abuse…the younger years? Did she remember “everything”…or just the minor “stuff” she used as an excuse to run away?

My sister kept trying…in recovery and out of it. I remember her telling me how she had to fight with the recovery people to get her a counselor. She kept saying she needed one, but they did not want to give it to her…not even in those fancy, high class, expensive recovery places.

Was it because it was being paid for by his parents? After all…counseling might mean that she would remember something…something important…something damning…about them. Maybe she would finally wake up to the truth about her boyfriend and his parents…the family she lived with. Or…maybe she wanted a counselor because she already had an inkling of the truth? I will never know in this life.

This is the time of year that I especially think of my sister…as her birthday approaches in a couple of days. And I wonder about her death…and sometimes, I wonder if she even really died…or if they have her holed up somewhere. It didn’t look like her. And my father would not leave me alone with her. If he had…what would I have done? I don’t know. We weren’t supposed to touch the body…but I think I would have. It did NOT look like her. I had seen her within the last year.

My father said it did, but he had not seen her in years…so far as I know. But then…it is not exactly like I came from a truthful family. Ha! “Family”. What is THAT supposed to be? Not the caricature I grew up with.

It’s funny how everything seemed to be so good…on the outside looking in. All the memories I concocted about growing up seemed so OK…yet I was so not OK.  Stories my mother told me were woven through my mind with photos from the family albums. Childhood. Sure…that was my childhood…only…it wasn’t.

I remember the day I suddenly realized that it was all a lie…a fantasy. It has been so long now that I cannot remember if it was before or after I realized that I could not remember growing up with my sister. It is as if she did not exist…yet I know for fact she was there…in the same house with me.

So many things are buried in the mists of amnesia with a tiny flash of a snippet here and there that blazes through so fast that I can barely figure out what just went by. Yet…those flashes ARE there. And I do have the photographs. My sister was there. Some of the photos I took…yet, I can barely see anything beyond the photos themselves. Whatever I see is more like a surreal picture in my mind.

She died on my birthday. At least…I am told she died. I saw what was supposed to be her body…but it sometimes haunts me to this day. I know she was becoming “inconvenient”. I would not put it past them to agree behind closed doors while pretending to hate each other to me. Two families…warring for her body. It was sick. It was insane. It was my sister.

I will never get the chance to get to know her. Her living…except for the few times in the later years when I finally did meet up with her…is buried deep within. What I do remember makes me wonder if I really want to remember the rest. I don’t know. Maybe I should just create a life with her just like I created a life of my own? No…I want to honor her by remembering the truth…if I can.

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Working Through Things and Parent’s Days

May 9, 2008

Sometimes it can be really hard to work through some things. It is like, no matter which way we turn, no matter how we look at it, it is going to be hard. There is going to be pain.

I had a flashback last night…totally unexpected…at least the timing of it was. The nature of the flashback was actually pretty predictable…given my family history. But no one likes to remember things that make them feel badly…or that might put them in a bad light. But that is the nature of the cult.

I am struggling a bit to allow the memories to flow freely. That is always a challenge. I know that I could not face the hidden memories without Yahweh’s help. Nope…just could not do it.

This coming weekend is Mother’s Day. I don’t like Mother’s Day. It is a painful day for many and, for others, it is a cop out. It is very commercialized. Ick!

For many, it is painful as they remember lost children, or children they never were able to have. Or as they remember painful childhoods. For some, their mothers were abusive. For some, their mothers died when they were very young. For others, they feel guilty because they know they were not the kind of mother they could have been…or should have been. Some are estranged from their children…through no fault of their own…and this is just a very painful reminder. And for some, it is the only time of year that they are really acknowledged…and this day just rubs in the hurt of that as they wonder how sincere their children are really being.

Some people use it as a cop out. They figure that they are doing OK so long as they at least remember to do something nice for Mom one day a year. If a mother is truly a good mother, she deserves more than one day a year. We should all be expressing our gratitude to good mothers a whole lot more often than one day a year. Don’t do something on one day because it is expected. Surprise her! And, if a mother is a horrible mother, then why should anyone feel pressured to do something nice for her?

*sigh* I don’t know. I just know that I don’t like this time of year. I don’t like Mother’s Day and I don’t like Father’s Day…same reasons.

Don’t get me wrong. There are many unsung heroes out there known as mothers and fathers. They do deserve to be honored and acknowledged and treated special…but it should be all year…not just on one day. And for those of us who are unable to have a real and loving relationship with our mothers (and fathers), well, we should not feel pressured to do something nice for them just because it is “Mother’s Day” or “Father’s Day”.

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