Family weekend

 This past weekend was a remarkable adventure. I welcomed into my house my boyfriend and my future stepson, for the first time as a pair. Our blended family made for a good combination.  I wasn't surprised that my children were so welcoming to them, because that's just who they are. We talked, we ate, we played, we fished, we canoed down the Merrimack, we took the boys for a play date at the trampoline park, they played video games, and many other things.

I am exhausted but I have a clearer idea of how things could be one day. Not perfect, nor average, just right for us.

  For years I wanted to have a relationship with a guy that either had no children or they were gown up and gone. Being a stepmother is a huge responsibility as there is such a fine line to walk that it scared me to death. In other words I never thought I could fill the shoes of another mother.  This weekend I was tested, and I realized that I don't have to fill anyone's shoes, because I could just wear my own. I don't have to be a mom, or even a step mom,  I just need to be me and allow the relationship to flow naturally without the need for labels. Having this 12 year old around was actually enjoyable. I felt like I gave birth again  bypassing the infancy, toddler and preschool period which is wonderful.

I spend time listening to what they had to say. My son and him teaching us about what they thought is wrong in USA, and the world. They talked about politics, abortion, gays and lesbians, religion and bullying, among other topics. Its unbelievable the things you can hear when you actually listen respectfully to someone else's opinion despite their age and life experiences.

Cooking and enjoying every meal in our deck was glorious and I can get used to that. During that weekend we all became one...not one person, but one family and it felt great. We erased the lines of race, stereotypes and culture and drew a new picture in which none of those lines were necessary. 

Now if I could only stop my boyfriend from leaving things behind every time he comes.  Every time I see a bottle of shampoo, deodorant, clothes or other personal items I get freaked out. Being a wife is exhausting and I guess I have some work to do before I get there, so he needs to stop the madness. I have to start with baby steps...

Grief

      Today marks the first anniversary of my father's passing. Throughout the past year I went through what it's called grief. I had my highs and I had my lows. It's been quite a journey. During this year I was able to see that the people that I saw as professional providers of mental health services were the most uncomfortable while discussing death and the ones that avoided it at all cost. I got the best support from my loving patients and not because I told them my life story, but because they cared and asked  and perhaps because despite my smile the spark in my eyes wasn't there; from friends and above all my family and boyfriend. 

      When I returned from my father's funeral I wrote him a letter that I sealed in my scrapbook album and didn't open until today. I am sharing this letter as part of my healing process and to be able to close a circle that has remained open way too long. 

My dear father, 

      You left me forever! September 15, 2014 marks the day of your departure from the world of the living. I was shocked by the wave of emotions I experienced when I was notified. I felt pain because your death meant much more than a goodbye. 

       I remember when I saw you in the casket, first time seeing you in 15 years. My knees buckled and I broke down. I cried a river, all the tears that I held back for decades came without my permission and they almost drowned me. I really loved you dad and I was devastated that I will never know if you loved me the same. You took my hope of hearing you say you love me, or hug me, or see you have a relationship with my kids...you took away all that. You left me with a lot of questions and no answers. 

        I was so sad because I didn't recognize the man in the casket, neither the man that people talked about.Hearing the stories of your friends was healing and comforting as you were loved by many. Going through your things was healing as I realized you kept all the letters and pictures I have sent you.

        I am glad I got to talk to you the days before your passing. You sounded old and it was hard to connect and read the voice on the line. I wish things were different, I wish you had accepted my invitation to live with me, maybe you would have lived longer. You rejected me until the last moment.

         This are the words I said for you:

                             All my life I tried to imagine how it would feel to lose a dad.

                             I don't have to imagine any longer because that's now my

                             reality. 

                             At times we forget that life is ephemeral and we live like it will

                             never end, and for that I ask you to enjoy every minute you

                             have available with your loved ones. Don't hold back an "I 

                             love you" or a question. My dad I have no more time to 

                             exchange ideas as death took his life away, but our relationship 

                             will last forever.

                             Death puts into perspective our own life, and what it was 

                             important no longer is, and what we considered trivial 

                             becomes the moments and things we cherished.

                             From dad I learned to live life my own way, no matter who gets

                             bothered by it. My dad lived at large and he died knowing that he

                             was loved not only by his children but by many. 

                             Please keep us in your prayers as this is a long process and this 

                             is only the beginning. 

       

    Today I let go of my dreams of a great father and accept that my father was a broken man that couldn't love me the way I wanted, because he didn't know how to do it. Dad I forgive you, and I forgive myself for the anger I held for years, for the numbness I invited so that I could deal with your absence, and for the neglect I may have exposed you to. I love you and I hope your soul is resting in eternal peace.

Mari