Kyle and Stephanie are having the big Halloween party this weekend. I am really excited. I just love Halloween. No. I just love dressing up. Unfortunately, part of my costume was back ordered, then the company just canceled my order. So, Elwen, Warrior She-Elf, is not going to have any actual elf ears. Darn darn darn. Maybe I'll just rig up some Silly Putty.
Jason brought me home a stray cat last night. She is beautiful and so sweet! She's a Shaded Silver. Gorgeous. And she's a lap cat (which none of my other kitties are.) She is also pregnant, I think. She is so little, though. She's just a kitten herself. So, I guess I will keep her for awhile and let her have her babies and try to find homes for them. If anyone wants a kitten, let me know!
That book, Forgiving Our Parents, Forgiving Ourselves, is really good. I am learning that so much of this stems back to my grandparents. My grandfather, specifically. I really think that it's him that I need to forgive, in my heart. Through my childhood, my parents managed to stay fairly separated from my grandparents. We had our own little family life, and visited on holidays and a couple of times in between-- all of which were difficult, but they weren't constant. Then, when I went to college, my grandparents got sick, went into the nursing home, needed lots of care. That's when I felt abandoned by my mom. Everything was about my grandparents. And she just went on autopilot. She was like a zombie for several years there. Even after my grandparents died, they retained this emotional hold on everyone, because their house still stood there, filled to the brim with their "precious" things. Everyone felt guilty about getting rid of any of it, or even selling the house, so there it stood-- a shrine to them. In the past year or so, I haven't even been able to go in the house, I would get such overwhelming guilt from it. Not a good daughter. Not a good granddaughter.
But now it's gone. All the stuff has finally been sold, as has the house. But I still feel hurt, and I still feel resentful to my grandfather to what he demanded of my mom and her sisters. He demanded that she stay a child. He demanded that all of us stay children. And once I became a teenager, I began feeling resentful at all family occasions. Our family took a backseat to my mom's old family. That's not right, you know. Leave and cleave. Her loyalties should have been to us, not her parents. It didn't help that every time my sisters and I suggested that we go do something ELSE for Christmas or Easter or Thanksgiving or whatever, it was told to us that, "Grandma and Papaw are getting old. They won't be with us for very much longer." Guilt. Guiltguiltguilt. Keep Ellen in line. Well, for FIFTEEN YEARS they said that to me.
Ugh. I hate guilt.
Jason brought me home a stray cat last night. She is beautiful and so sweet! She's a Shaded Silver. Gorgeous. And she's a lap cat (which none of my other kitties are.) She is also pregnant, I think. She is so little, though. She's just a kitten herself. So, I guess I will keep her for awhile and let her have her babies and try to find homes for them. If anyone wants a kitten, let me know!
That book, Forgiving Our Parents, Forgiving Ourselves, is really good. I am learning that so much of this stems back to my grandparents. My grandfather, specifically. I really think that it's him that I need to forgive, in my heart. Through my childhood, my parents managed to stay fairly separated from my grandparents. We had our own little family life, and visited on holidays and a couple of times in between-- all of which were difficult, but they weren't constant. Then, when I went to college, my grandparents got sick, went into the nursing home, needed lots of care. That's when I felt abandoned by my mom. Everything was about my grandparents. And she just went on autopilot. She was like a zombie for several years there. Even after my grandparents died, they retained this emotional hold on everyone, because their house still stood there, filled to the brim with their "precious" things. Everyone felt guilty about getting rid of any of it, or even selling the house, so there it stood-- a shrine to them. In the past year or so, I haven't even been able to go in the house, I would get such overwhelming guilt from it. Not a good daughter. Not a good granddaughter.
But now it's gone. All the stuff has finally been sold, as has the house. But I still feel hurt, and I still feel resentful to my grandfather to what he demanded of my mom and her sisters. He demanded that she stay a child. He demanded that all of us stay children. And once I became a teenager, I began feeling resentful at all family occasions. Our family took a backseat to my mom's old family. That's not right, you know. Leave and cleave. Her loyalties should have been to us, not her parents. It didn't help that every time my sisters and I suggested that we go do something ELSE for Christmas or Easter or Thanksgiving or whatever, it was told to us that, "Grandma and Papaw are getting old. They won't be with us for very much longer." Guilt. Guiltguiltguilt. Keep Ellen in line. Well, for FIFTEEN YEARS they said that to me.
Ugh. I hate guilt.
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