I wonder what lead us astray to believe the dynamics of family isn’t something we should all cherish. There are those that live these picturesque family ideals and then there was me. It is hard to want to live the dreams of those that were only there to misguide you. You wanted to believe that they had your heart and future in their best interests but all of a sudden they revealed their true colours. How can one who destined to live in the footsteps of her father look now and think I hope to hell I never turn out like him. I would be lying to myself if I told myself that I didn’t cry when I thought of him. He was the best man in my life (aside from my grandfather). Now all I have is these haunting memories and the eyes of my grandfather smiling back at me in picture form.
I would be lying if it hasn’t crossed my mind what it would feel like to be in the throes of a loving embracing. Maybe love isn’t the word. Maybe it is passion. But to partake in that kind of action would be in the grander scheme of things cheating even though I have told my husband I have had desires too. Imagine being so humble in your own heart that you go to the one person who holds your family in your hands and tell them your honest, raw feelings. I am met with no response. Weirder still I wish that I could even hug my dad one more time just so I can burn in my memory what it feels like to be hug by my Dad one last time. Did you ever miss someone that it hurt so bad. Some say it is easier to miss those that have passed on as you know that there is no possibility. What hurts so much is knowing that he holds his step wives grandchildren like they are his own. When I look in my sons eyes and see my grandfather and father I just want to scream. I guess you could say I have been blessed with a third true love in that is in the form of my son.
I have been over analyzing life and it’s purpose in my mind over and over again. With each new passing of life comes an even deeper understanding of our purpose. At least to me at times anyways. I relive certain moments over and over. The message not entirely lost on me but drives me insane just the same. The imagery so vivid that I feel l like I have been transported in time. I can hear the laughter of each and every one of my family members like it was yesterday. Not to be forgotten was the festive air that we all held onto so tightly till it hurt too much to remember. This thoughts rip at my heart because in no reality can I ever be transported back. And if I could I wouldn’t because of where I am now but the longing that I feel is just the same as it was when I realized how things could never be the same.
Yes every little girl has those dreams of meeting a prince (princess? a title more fluid?). Correction every little girl, boy or yet to be identified has dreams of a happily ever after. That happily ever after morphs and forms into the dreams and hopes of the future. No two ideologies can ever be the same. Unless of course you are the walking image of somebody else’s dream then of course maybe it could be true. I think the hole in my dream is still the one where my dad is in my life. There is no denying how much I miss that man. Every great memory I have is of him. How he always wore those olive green shirts and jeans everyday as he went to work. His closet was the same. Green shirts and jeans. I don’t remember him in much of anything else. It is just too much to write at times and I have to step and catch my breath. I get scared in the knowing that there is a possibility that my son can turn on me too. In my memories I don’t remember doing too much to shun him out of my life. Except of course to demand respect and to stop the spread of malicious rumours. It is disturbing to think that there are those that fabricate an opinion of you just to stay relevant in your life. If you can’t trust your own family it is best to feed them to the wolves as they prey on the weak.
My family has become so incredibly important to me. The ones that have always buckled in and stayed by my side. We can’t become anything without experiencing something. To remain sheltered in these hallows from the outside of world only to come and lash out when you think you may have a chance. A chance of winning a game that should never have been played? Yes mistakes on both sides have usually been made. The lasting impression of a loved one turned sour. A smile, a hug, an even warmer. Evil may have one in this life time but I wonder what the pittance is for such a transgression. A denial of roots and blood and all things holy. Money, greed, lust, hate, envy, sloth, gluttony are the roots of all evil. We have been handed down this little tidbit of knowledge throughout time. Without the thirst for these sins we would all be in a much kinder, better place. Who desires to be better than anybody or to have the last word. To willingly and knowingly inflict harm on another just because well I hurt my brain trying to figure out if you are even human or not.
The way you define wealth in your eyes is something that I will never understand. I am lucky that I am learning to appreciate the blessings I have been given by sharing it onto others that maybe have not had the greatest shot at life. My blogging journey has opened my eyes, heart and being to so many new concepts and thoughts. What started as a desire to connect with the world ended up with me connecting with myself. Where once I felt pretty insignificant, and small at best I know feel strong. I am still pretty insignificant in the grander schemes of thing but in my heart and in my life I am the most significant piece of all.