THE ART OF FORGIVENESS

Any mother who has ever bonded with her child–and most-likely we all have–has come to learn the Art of Forgiveness.  And during the course of nurturing our kids into adulthood, we’ve likely noticed along the way that our kids don’t always inherite that same tendency to forgive; Which brings me to the other day.

My son turned twenty on the 26th, and if you’ve read my prior posts in this blog you see that I’ve been on the outs with my adult kids for a while now.  It all comes down to respect, knowing one’s place in the family status, maturity, being ‘kind’ to one another, and — yes…you guessed it — forgiveness.

Last month (it seems like so long ago to me), I had a disagreement with my oldest daughter ‘M’.  Well, it has long-been her practice to hold a grudge til it screams for her to let it go.  She doesn’t…ever!  She throws things up from the past, and more-often that not, it is a very distorted…one-sided recolection, at best. 

Enter my son.  He was somehow dragged into the disagreement between me and M.  They both linched me on Facebook…their ‘friends’ joined in the linching…so on and so forth, until I had to block them all.  I use FB mostly for business promo, so this was a major embarrassment.  Either way, it tore my heart out that my kids (especially my son…who had absolutely nothing to do with the disagreement), turned on me so furotiously. 

So…I have tried to move on and smooth it all over since then.  And all the while I ask myself ‘Why am I reaching out to them when they both disrespected me so vulgerly on FB?’.  It’s simple…yet complicated.  I forgive my kids no matter what they do to me…or say to me.  I love them and love is forgiving.

Trouble is, they aren’t forgiving…at all!  I contacted my son for his birthday, and he wasn’t having it. 

Yes…my husband (his step-dad) took up for me and told them both to stay away –since we have a very impressionable toddler to worry about teaching–until they learned respect and knew their bounderies…their places in this family.  It seems the kids are now trying to control the parents in many families across the country or world.  In my day, we wouldn’ve never…EVER talked to our parents like my kids have talked to me, nor would we have ever acted the way my kids have acted.  I loved my parents, which showed in my behavior. 

Now, I’m left to wonder–Do my kids even love me?  It’s not looking so much like they do.  How do I know?  They are bitter, full of hate for me, and most of all…unforgiving.  I might not have been the best mom in the world, but against the odds I was dealt way back when I was bringing them into adulthood (being a single mom with a manipulating ex husband and inlaws), it was me against the world.  There were too many people butting into our business, and I didn’t know until it was too late and my kids had already sided against me with other ‘friends’ who only wanted to be popular with other parents’ teens.  They hadn’t even grown up themselves!

Needless to say, this has been a uphill emotional battle with my kids.  No one knows my side of the story unless they read it here, because I choose not to air my dirty laundry on FB.  But…I have to let it out somehow.  So…here I sit and pour my heart out to readers of my blog.  And I find often that I’m just one in a million-billion Moms who have gone through so much for their kids…only to be stomped on when they grow into ‘kids in adult bodies’. 

I know my kids have a LOT of growing up to do!  I blame ‘Generation E’ (E meaning entitlement) on many of these dumb shows airing on ‘the WB’ or similar networks; these ‘teeny-bopper soaps’ where the youngsters are living posh lifestyles (courtesy of their parents’ hard work), driving fancy cars (Mom and Dad bought), and playing adult roles (they are way too young to handle).  I’d rather go the the dentist’s chair than watch such garbage. But that is what our young minds of tomorrow are absorbing.  Hog Wash!

Enough venting…

I just keep asking myself where I went wrong.  And often-times I can look back and see a lot of what I should’ve or shouldn’t have done.  Still, I’ve been told by my friends who have known me through-out my kids’ upbringing–friends with kids the same age, who have faced the same challenges, who really…really knew me–that perhaps I had spoiled my kids too much.  Looking back, this former room-mother, fashion designer/seamstress for my kids, bakery chef and host of two birthday-parties-a-year for 15+ years, nightly book reader, Mom who took my kids to work because their dad didn’t show up, diaper changer, feeder, soothing, nurturer, so on and so forth, just might have catered to my older kids a bit too much. 

The point is, there is no way…ever, that a Mom’s services-rendered can be listed.  The list is endless and it continues to grow no matter how old our kids.  And my third list, the one for my toddler, will be endless too.  That’s okay with me.  A mother never keeps tabs really, we just continue to do what we do; all the while hoping our kids will someday grow up to return the kindness and understanding…and the forgiveness. 

Moms have dreams too.

A Mother’s Dream

*I’m up early this morn–I had a dream about my daughter (the oldest one)* I miss her face and my GBear, too. : (

As the dream went:  She was at my door–where we lived before–and she looked very sad and lost.  I quickly unlocked the chain when I saw it was her.  She was wearing a red T-Shirt; the one she always wore to sleep, the words “I’m a Pepper” written across it.  I was holding my toddler on my hip, and she began asking about her nephew–my grandson…the son of my oldest–as they had become quite close since he came home from the hospital.  He had been born with complications and specials needs at only 3.5 lbs, but had quickly grown into a heppy…healthy little tyke.  *My heart hurts to see his smile.*

In my dream, my oldest (I’ll call her ‘M’), reached for Baby (my youngest) but Baby turned away and kept asking for my grandson.  My daughter ‘M’ didn’t seem to care that I was standing there, but then it all faded away and I felt a very eery feeling come over me….just before I woke up in tears.

Hubby heard my sobbing and tried to console me, even though he wasn’t quite awake yet.  Now, it’s early morning Saturday….and I’m feeling scared for my daughter and grandson.  I want to hold him in my arms.  I want to hold her like I did when she was young.  I feel so lost for answers, as I’ve tried to call her…but she does not answer.  I’ve tried to call my son too–though he’s another story entirely–he doesn’t answer either.

My kids (minus Baby) have 86’ed me from their lives.  The reason my daughter ‘M’ might give is that I stood her up for a dinner that I RSVP’ed to–though most people will never hear the part where she told me not to go, she didn’t want me there; right before hanging up in my ear.  We decided against exposing our youngest to any drama that might ensue should we go anyway.

As for my son–He never called me and asked what was going on between me and his big sister.  He just went to linching me right along with her.  Still, I’m not mad at either on of them…even if the trust has crumbled.  I miss them, even though they have the tendencies to dig up old bones, that are distorted in truth at best.  I love them…no matter what they do or say to me.  As I’m sure all mother’s know–Our love is unconditional.

Still, I wish I could go back to sleep…if only to see my daughter’s face once again.  My grandson wasn’t in the dream, though I wondered where he was.  I miss his sweet smile.  I miss my son’s goofy nature…and when was the class clown; the teachers always sending home notes.  I still hope that someday…he’ll become a comedian in movies, like Jim Carrey.  I’ll never give up on my kids.  I sooner give up on myself.

The sun is rising-fast across the lake.  How I wish they could be here with me to see it.

*Oh my aching heart*