Bleeding Love

The last few days have been an incredible lesson all in itself. At first it started in caring for my son during his first bout with the flu. Staring into his pleading eyes begging for the sickness that has ravaged his body to end I knew that no matter what I was in it to the end with this guy. Where others have came into my life and left I knew that I would move Heaven on Earth so that never changed. I didn’t want the relationship that I had with my Father. I shouldn’t even use the word relationship because we don’t even have that. My heart used to ache as I watched some of the strongest women that I have ever had the pleasure of knowing be brought to their knees with the passing of their children. Maybe a mother’s love is the strongest type of love on Earth. Maybe that is why it is different for some.As children we walk the course that has been handed down to us for generations. In my case I am unsure if I had ever connected with my parents the way that I had hope to connect with mine. If this is true that means that their were pieces of me that I had to learn to accept in order to let go and fully move forward. It was no longer about me anymore buabout that beautiful being right beside me. Trying to imagine the loss that one would feel from being seperated from that piece of their heart that exists without them. I think how much harder it would be for a child to lose a parent. Especially when they are younger. Of course losing a parent to age is bittersweet. You are thankful for the time and you are thankful they lived a long life. There comes a time though when in age there is this deep seeded pain. For most of us that is what our Grandparents experience when losing a loved one. My Grandfather was so distraught over the passing of his wife. They were married for over 50 years. That leads me to believe that maybe the love that they had for their children was purer then the love they shared amongst each other.In the realization that nobody is perfect they worked hard to establish family roots together. It is hard to imagine a time when people no longer ran away from their relationships. Times are harder now. We are constantly exposed to the billions of people that surround us. We can have thousands of single mates at our fingertips from all over the World. How does one even stay celibate and chose the love that has come to exist outside of their body for something cheap and taudry. Not all relationshps are like that. Some are fulfilling and nurturing and encompass all that the person is, was and will be. Some though are toxic and rotten to the core and like a disease kill the host. I remember the night before my Father’s second marriage I cried and begged him to choose me. I told him that we could be each other’s companions. I didn’t mean in a sexual way. I meant in the purest form of love that two people could ever share. Our bond was supposed to be unique and untouched because after all he was my blood. I imagined our lives differently. I imagined a life where he either lived with me or close by. Taking his grandbabies to the park. Playing catch and taking them for ice cream. Spoiling them in a way that only a Grandparent truly can. But even those that have long become a memory can tell you that that relationship was manipulated and darkened with impure intentions. I mean how many people can involuntarily saw they have seen their step mom naked in a bubble bath. She wasn’t even my step mom just the flavour of the month. But there we were in shocked silence as the computer screen filled with images of this woman nude. It was a clear attempt at evil manipulation. For once I had a competition the next day. The whole reason for the trip but now I will forever be haunted by that chesire grin and the water that barely lapped over her body.My heart bleeds for my Dad because I haven’t known him since he left my mom. The last bittersweet memory I have of him was of him holding his head in his hands. I thought to myself that I would never want anybody to hurt him. Not like that. Never again. I imagined this happy life of us being a family. No matter what anybody will tell you it’s like I waited all my life for my Dad to come back into my life before starting a family. This journey that I walk without him breaks my heart in two. From as young as I can remember my Dad was my hero. I never wanted anything bad to happen to him. I wanted to shield him from all the wrongs that were ever done to him and make up for them a million times over. That is why even after 8 long years of barely talking I asked my Dad to walk me down the aisle. On pins and needles I waited. I thought this would be our opportunity to mend our broken bridge and hearts. What I got broke my heart. He said he would only come if his dogs were present and only for a couple hours. The man who has always been my hero who I had always dreamed would love me forever. I imagined this world where a father’s love was unconditional. Now I was told that his dogs were more important. The dream of dancing with my dad to, “I know the Bride When She Used to Rock and Roll” by Nick Lowe was gone. The reason why that song is so specific is because that’s the song he had requested to dance with my older sister. As the song came on and the spotlight hit my Dad we got word that she had already left. Rushing to the dance floor me and my sister danced with him. I was only 12 but I vowed that I would never do that to my Dad. I wanted my fairytale and my Dad would always be my Knight in Shining Armour. My husband my Prince and my Dad my protector. Isn’t that every little girls dream?The greatest things about dreams is they never are obtainable. They morph and manifest into bigger dreams that allow you to find the strength to get on with your day. Having my son opened my heart in ways I never imagined possible. In the same way it also closed off my heart. To be told the things I have been by a man I have loved my whole life unconditionally has been soul shattering. But amongst the debris I have found a way to manifest love in a diferrent way. I have learned that maybe it isn’t the blood that makes you a good person. We all have that. Maybe it is who you have become that really matters. Looking down at my son as he sleeps I know that there is never a possibility of me ever leaving his side. That the only way is by that finite seperation that comes when the soul leaves the body. My role as a mother is to teach my son how to weather these storms that he will find himself in. That the only people that matter are the ones that believe in him and wish him much success. That we can tear ourselves away from the unrealistic expectations that some will impose on us. That it is ok to walk from those intentionally try to harm us as they are even more broken then we can ever imagine ourselves to be. I need to teach him how it is to live broken and how one can come to terms with living with a bleeding heart.

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