I Still Found My Thanksgiving
I started this write up for Octobers Newsletter last week all the while struggling with my topic. Finally I reached for my most favourite Oracle Deck and asked for guidance. As always the card was bang on and I just sat and chuckled.
Oracle of the Unicorns came in to my shoppe a couple of weeks ago and I cannot express enough how the cards have spoken to me every single time. Well Friday was no different as I pulled the ‘Flow’ card. I read the message of this card and knew that the struggle I was experiencing on which topic to write about was actually intertwined with all of my choices. This card showed up to remind me to relax, float, surf and play in the waves. To remind me to dance with the ebb and the flow of life. This card gave me all my answers even with the broken heart that was beating in my chest.
The beauty of a broken heart is that it is a dance that goes with the ebb and flow of life. Before I tell the story I originally wanted to write about, I will first share how my day started as I sat journaling in the shoppe.
This past Friday was my daughters birthday and I spent it reflecting on our first introduction to each other. I was journaling that day retracing the memories of being in labour and giving birth to this most precious gift that changed my life forever. A Mothers love is like no other and yet when my daughter was born I experienced something I did not expect. I was in labour with my daughter for almost 30 hours and I was exhausted by the time the doctors told me there was a problem. A new doctor was called in and my life was spinning around while I watched all the faces in the brightest room ever. In the room with me were the doctors, the nurses as well as my husband and all I could see were blank faces of complete strangers. I remember looking at my husband when our baby came into this world and was immediately rushed over to the other side of the room. At first I thought I saw the disappointment of her father regretting our baby was a girl and not the boy he was hoping for. When in truth our daughter was filled with my blood and they had to save her life.
As I was journaling Friday I realized the time was just shortly after 10am and it suddenly hit me what I was doing 28 years ago at that very moment. My daughter was born at 1:30am and yet it took me almost 9 hours to actually ask to hold her for the first time. It was not because she was in ICU or I was not available due to my condition but it was because I did not want to hold her. The shame that ran through me at that time and for some time after was so immeasurable. All I knew is that she was out of the woods and then it was all about me for just a small number of hours. The reality was that it was probably eternity for this beautiful little baby girl as she was missing her mother’s heartbeat who loved and kept her safe for over 9 months in her tiny little cocoon. I refused to hold my baby girl waving her away after being born and only asking for a cheese sandwich instead. I am not a fan of plain bread with a slice of processed cheese and butter but it was the most delectable sandwich ever. That is when it hit me and it was official, I was the most horrible new mother in the world and I did not deserve to be a Mom.
As I was sitting in the shoppe writing in my journal the why of this story, the most beautiful song came on and I began to cry. The song was definitely Heaven sent and it was to let me know there was no shame in needing to rest before giving her all of my heart for life. The song is called “How Could Anyone” and here in my newsletter I will share, so you too can release any shame or fears you may have when it comes to your own children. In turn I also invite you to release any shame or fears around how you felt as someone’s child because in truth we are all Heaven sent and we must always remember this.
https://youtu.be/aF7yFOlOk9M
Now my second child, my baby boy delivered a whole different story of shame and heartache for me. I always knew I wanted more than one child and this second pregnancy was most definitely planned as I was on a mission to give my husband a son. You see we had two other children before ours ( half sisters to our new children ) as he had two beautiful little girls before we started our own family. Before I go further half sisters are not permitted to be spoken of in our home as they were 100% full sisters. If you ever mentioned half sisters the roof came down from every single one of our kids. Now back to the boy, the son, the grandson, the only brother and one who carried a lot of weight on his shoulders before he was even born. You can only imagine being the last male in a family where the family name would end without a son being brought into this world to carry it on. Now that I think of it, you will now understand why I thought the night our daughter was born I saw a look of disappointment written all over her father’s face.
The shame that I carried through my pregnancy and what I attached to my son, was that I was a horrible mother yet again. What business did I have bringing another baby into this world when I had no love to spare for him. I spent the last month of my pregnancy beating myself up and listening to the subliminal belief that I was a horrible Mom. I could never love another child the way I love my daughter. This little boy had no chance of being loved by his mother.
My sons delivery was so different from his sisters and he basically just fell into this world. I will never forget hearing the nurses telling me to hold him in when usually all you hear is them telling you to push. I finally remember our doctor coming in and me telling her she was grounded for life. Then it happened, he was in my arms. The only thing that came out of my mouth this time was not the desire for a cheese sandwich at all. What came out of my mouth this time was “Oh my God, I can have ten more children as I love him so much”. I was so blissfully amazed the love that grew in my heart at that very moment he was delivered. I remember giggling, thinking of the Grinch and how his heart grew three sizes that day but for me it was so much bigger.
Now to share the reasons of my broken heart this past week and why I have been struggling with what to write has been brewing right up until today. Two weeks ago I knew for sure I wanted to write about my kids and then it spun into my own sibling pain. What I have learned is that if you do not sit and write at the very start of the idea, you lose it. Yet the theme has been arriving as waves since the first thought and the first idea. I have been surfing the wave of the same idea but in different views of that wave. The flow card whispered to me to let go of the one idea and let it all come in the way it was supposed to.
So here is my vulnerable truth as well the hard truth of how I tick as well as how my heart beats. I was battling with the heartbreak of my children fighting without talking for the last couple of months. One child grieving and the other one appearing to not care. The stubbornness of my two children was ripping my little family apart. It is one thing to watch your children grow up and fight through the single digits and then the teenage years. For me my children fighting as adults brings me to a whole new wound and one I do not wish for them. Nor do I want to watch them live through another generational pain with such very deep scars. I would give anything in the world to break this chain and change this pattern.
As the idea for my writings of my kids came out, my family was hit with a death of our Aunt Joan. My Aunt Joan was such a special lady and one that taught us all grace. She was the oldest sister to my Dad and she has watched her family, our family through so many battles, turmoils and heartbreaks. This was a lady who was a Catholic Nun in her twenties and chose to step out of her religious vocation and moved in with my grandparents. Aunt Joan was all family and was all grace. Through the years we buried her baby brother (my Dad), her baby sister, my grandparents and a nephew. Through all these years I watched the family feuds and heard the statements of “I am never going to talk to them again, let alone be in the same room”. To this day most of us are all estranged and it breaks my heart. This also broke my Aunt Joans heart and she spoke of it enough times that eventually she gave up and just loved us all individually. Aunt Joan was filled with unconditional love, at least in my eyes. It struck me at her funeral that she got the last laugh with all of us. Her funeral fell within the same day 61 years before when my parents got married. A family that was so close in 1958 was now being held in a container by Aunt Joan and dragged together 61 years later. To be able to see some of us, not all of us together once again showed me the theme of unconditional love did not exist in our family. We are all fluff and I yearn for a day when we all see each other again like the very first time or remember what it was like when we were small children and would go to the ends of the earth to protect each other. When I think of it with my siblings, it was when we were still in our thirties and forties that we began to tear each other down. One of my brothers would call me a Pollyanna because I lived in a world believing we could all come together through love, and in fact he has called me that many times. I never stop asking for the love we have in our hearts to finally remove the masks we wear in our life. We truly do live a life wearing the masks that hide our true self, our vulnerable self, that little girl or boy who was never loved the way we wanted to be loved as well as deserved to be loved.
This is my wound I carry every single day and one I know I finally have to let go of. This cannot be my story any longer and I definitely don’t want it to be my children’s story. Seeing my oldest sister at my Aunt’s funeral reminded me of how much she has turned into a complete stranger. What once represented a huge piece of my heart as one of my most cherished persons now represented a hole that grew larger than life itself. This sister held me while being in labour with my daughter and now we don’t even know how to hold a heartfelt conversation. I have spent the last 8 years aching for the repair of a family that no longer exists. A family that once was 5 children strong is now divided with all of our children fighting to not fall into this same heartbreaking pattern. Some will survive this pattern and some may be fortunate to break it. I wish for my children the gift of changing the story and breaking the pattern. I wish for my children to learn the meaning of unconditional love and to live with it every single day, and not just through their own children when they are born.
As Thanksgiving is upon us I know I will not be a part of my family again this year or around a familiar Thanksgiving table. I have learned to be okay with this and give thanks for many other reasons. Sadly in the branch of my own family, what once was a family of three sisters and one brother is now just another broken branch. It is now the same old story and the same old theme that runs throughout both their father’s and my own family line. Our kids don’t really come together when it matters or even when it doesn’t matter.
Why is it that when one of us speaks up about the hurt and the feelings we carry within the family, the others all think we must have had a bad day or something sad has happened to us.
What is all this judging that goes on and why is there no unconditional love?
This past weekend my shoppe was lit up with so many wonderful energies and beautiful faces. I felt love all around me and even had the gifts of some pretty special people from my inner life and family. Saturday as I sat chatting with a few people I looked up to see the most beautiful face in the world to me, well other than my own children walk through the front door. In walks my oldest brother and I was so filled with immeasurable love and happiness. My brother just happened to be driving through Brighton from Ottawa and had an urge to drive off the 401 to come and hug his little sister. This surprise was from a higher power, that I am sure of. This visit was to remind me I truly do have family that loves me. Here I am writing about the messed up conditional love surrounding me in my family and the one guy in my family of 5 siblings is the guy that is all about UNCONDITIONAL LOVE. He has been a rock for me my entire life and after all of our years together I cannot remember a fight between us. I know without a doubt he will always have my heart tucked safely inside his heart. This past weekend he showed up when I was so sensitive and so needing his arms around me. I got twelve hugs from him that day and I have no idea how I counted them. I am almost sure I heard “I love you” from him that day at least four times. When I told him why I was struggling and the anxiety around what some of our siblings would feel if reading this, he said, “Just Do It,” good old Mr. Nike. My big brother, I sure do love you!
I mentioned that there were some special people form my inner life and family, my brother was only one of them that day. In the afternoon as I was still enjoying the beautiful people in my shoppe, I once again looked at the door to see two very special ladies who meant the world to me when I was a little girl walk in. My first best friend in grade 2 brought me into her family when I needed this family more than they probably knew. I was received to join their family of 5 daughters and I pushed my way in to be a 6th. This was the family when my Dad passed when I was a young girl, who found me collapsed in their front door at 6:30am. To see their faces walk into the shoppe this past Saturday with the look of pure excitement, love and pure joy was definitely not what I expected to feel while I was trying to find the words for this newsletter. Seeing two soul sisters of mine that looked at me like I was the most important person in the world, gave me the perfect ending to my story here.
This weekend is Thanksgiving and regardless of my own family not wanting to keep us together I do have family that is out there and I have been blessed today to be reminded of this. The last quarter of each year is the hardest for me as they bring in the anniversaries of both my parents passing, my children’s birthdays, Thanksgiving and Christmas. This is the time where my Pollyanna with the rose coloured glasses goes looking for her rainbow. This is where Dorothy realizes there is no place like home and this is where I pray for unconditional love to find its way into everyones heart and home.
We all have flaws, we all have scars, we all have skeletons, and we all have made mistakes. Do we not all have toxicity, drama, unwanted challenges that come into our families and our friendships, our lives? Can we not learn to build boundaries but sometimes let down the walls so that we remember what it is like to truly love and be loved. Shame is one of the deadliest wounds to live with but so is being unlovable and unworthy. To me being unlovable and unworthy feels far more painful. Dare I admit that when it comes to family there are some of us left feeling unlovable. Is that what we want our legacy to be? Is that what we want to teach our children, family or friends?
Today I vow to always be a Pollyanna with rose coloured glasses on, because we all are lovable and we all are worthy!!