Dear Keren,
This week, I have been angry. Really angry. Angry to the point that I'm even surprising myself that I have the capacity for this anger. Angry to the point that Michael and Jason are slightly concerned by the amount of physical violence I'm threatening.
(Don't worry, I'm going to try to deal with this healthily. They are going to look for something for me to beat up to take my anger out. Or something.)
I've talked about the "Dark Year" for a while now without ever really getting into it. There really isn't a point in talking about that year anymore, because the part of the family that made that year so dark has fought hard amongst themselves to the point where I think we are starting to make some headway. Sure, it hasn't been easy, but was the fight worth it? I think so. I do wish some of the sacrifices that had to be made never happened, but look at us now. I'm grateful.
Yet on the other hand, there's another part of the family that seems to be taking one baby step at a time to make my life a living hell. Don't get me wrong; they are not bad people. They're very well-intentioned, but sometimes I wonder if they really took the time to think through the implications of what they are deciding to do.
There are times in our life-cycle where we fall and make a boo-boo, and a little bandage with the Hello Kitty or the Smurfs will do fine. There are other times in our life-cycle where it's a matter of internal bleeding, and no amount of Smurf bandages are going to help anymore.
In the years that have passed since that Dark Year, healing has come for that part of the family. But my wounds are only just starting to heal... and not because a doctor with magical powers came to wave their wand over my wounds, but because time, and a significant enough number of people from that family have allowed me to grieve with them over those wounds.
And now this. This is cutting deeper than the wounds left behind from the Dark Year.
Maybe it's because I had naively allowed myself to, even just for a second, think that we're making progress as a family.
Maybe it's because my old wounds have only just started to heal.
Maybe it's because for a second, I thought this family had learnt how to genuinely care for each other, and for relationships.
Maybe it's because I thought it was safe for me to assume I had enough of a relationship with that part of the family to depend on them for just that little bit of support to get me through this ending/beginning season of life.
Maybe, maybe, maybe...
Whatever the reason, the truth is, we're all a bunch of messed-up people. Each with our own baggage bringing our messes to the table. Whatever we decide to do with that, I think the Creator will use to fashion into the beauty that is a part of a bigger tapestry than we can see at the moment.
But the other side of the truth is, it still hurts like hell right now. It's like that same feeling of lying awake at 2am the nights after you went away, wanting to scream but not even sure what words to use.
I've always struggled with being as authentic as I can in my relationships. When I was younger, it meant I didn't say anything to anyone because this is my baggage to carry. As I got older, I thought being authentic meant learning to trust a few with my inner-most thoughts and those relationships always ended abruptly when I least expect. Then when you went away, I wasn't sure I would ever be able to give anything more in my relationships because eventually shit happens, and then we die.
Yet I had to relearn what it means to choose life again, and a part of that meant learning to be authentic in my relationships again instead of simply giving the "Hi, how are you, I'm good." answers and walking away. Because in light of this week, I want to stop feeling. Because my anger toward that part of the family is making me react negatively to other parts of the family. And I have less than three weeks left to pack things up around here. That's not enough time to screw up relationships now and try to reconcile before I leave.
In light of the fact that it is your birthday in a few more minutes, I want to be able to say I will choose life even while my heart is hurting right now. I know this will turn around, and not because I believe in the family. At least, right now, I don't anymore. But I believe in the Creator of Love, that is Love in itself. And I believe eventually this love will overwhelm again to the point where healing can begin.
But right now, this just hurts like hell. And maybe for right now, choosing life is choosing to feel the hurt of the frailty of humanity.
Happy 25th Birthday, KEB.
Miss you so very much,
Me
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