The Sincerest Love

  We have 6 weeks to the end of the year and I've found myself sifting through a lot of feelings I didn't expect. I entered into the Fall season looking forward to the holidays and ready to hustle through the final days of 2017. I've felt capable, productive, and filled with peace throughout this very busy year. All was well until something shifted last week. Relationships were off, negative behaviors were amplified, and I started to heavily feel the weight of consciousness (as in: my desire to be present, open, and aware at all times). I had to witness and manage the effects of a parent's selfishness on a child and the emotional consequences.  As a mom I probably venture to the realm of neurosis when it comes to choosing my responses/rules/expectations/boundaries (while also being a passionate person which doesn't always translate well to being even-keeled, mellow, and non reactive). This is magnified by raising 2 atypical children who do not respond as one would expect to normal parenting; I don't see results of my efforts nor is there any sort of rule book or any guarantee that things will ever be truly whole and functional for them. It keeps me searching for answers while feeling confused and helpless.

  Anyway, Thanksgiving. My husband's grandpa died a year ago this week. Our dog Nina died 2 years ago this week. As these memories crept up on me I started to look at the history of my relationship with the month of November and dang dude, I am not a fan. This year my dad is hosting our dinner at my grandparent's house. This will serve as a final goodbye to one of the only stable places of my childhood before the house is sold. I have so many memories there. And I miss my grandma. She's been gone for 13 years. She didn't get to meet all my children and in a way I feel like she didn't get to know me either. I didn't visit her enough when I lived around the corner because I didn't know how to be part of a family. The thought makes me sick.

  I think about death a lot, more than is probably healthy. I'm not scared to die. I'm scared of looking back over my life knowing I could have done better. I'm scared of losing my mind to Alzheimer's and forcing my family to watch my slow decline as I miss out on everything I've worked to enjoy. I'm burdened knowing that as life moves on, my children will have to experience brokenness and heartache because it's part of the human experience and part of being real. I'm sad that as I age I'll experience loss again. and again. and again. I don't know why anyone would want to live to their 90's or beyond. It doesn't sound very fun to watch your friends pass on and your spouse and siblings, god, I just thought of that. I'll take my leave somewhere in my 80's thankyouverymuch.

  This is why I am neurotic. This overwhelming sense of being present knowing my time is limited, my actions effect others, sometimes I'm not even a decent human, and I'm stuck living with myself day in and day out. I try so hard to do the right thing in every situation because my conscience has no chill. I love my kids so much I'd rather live in this torturous state of gold medal expectations than risk the possibility of failing them.

  So that's it. I'm someone who grew up with no deep familial relationships and now I have this huge family and all these people I care so much about and I'm directly accountable to 8 humans for every choice I make. In my desire to be honest with them I allow myself to be someone who gets tired and irritated and sad and bitchy. Sometimes I am worn out and sometimes I look at them in complete awe that I was given the privilege to be their mom. Sometimes I fall to the ground and cry with humility and gratitude for their existence and sometimes I hide from them in the bathroom . One thing is constant: I matter to them and they matter to me.

  It's scary being a mom, being a human, living in this broken world, and allowing yourself to have a soft heart. It can be devastating. I guess if we create an honest relationship with our children they will be capable of practicing grace and cultivating the most sincere love as it has been modeled for them. Everything else will just have to work itself out because time will continue to march on with no regard to my wants.