08 July 2013

Things get a little serious here.

{things do indeed get a little serious here but i had to get it out of my system before i could return to the funnies, which will be coming because that's what i enjoy most, after all}

I really love living. Dude, I LOVE LIFE. I don't think I've ever felt so happy (and sometimes so sad) in my whole life. The good comes with the bad, as they say. During my days of Jude Care I think and think about why I feel so happy these days and I think I may be on to something.

I was raised in a pretty strict, huge ass, Mormon family. I seem to remember having a happy and a sad childhood and was sometimes really scared of my dad. When we were little little ones he was quite the disciplinary to say the least. Everything was ultimately Dad's decision in the end. We couldn't get our hair cut without his say so. He was extremely angry when my mom told him she just couldn't have 12 kids (I'm serious) and never thought of her the same since as far as I can put the pieces together. When I was in University he told me to "never marry a convert"- which is someone who joins a religion at some point in their life rather than being born and raised with it. My mother was a convert to the Mormon religion. My dad poured over books full of the weird history of our church and would underline the super creepy passages that had to do with polygamy. He would always talk about all the Mormon women who never got married with some kind of longing for them, or so it seemed to a teenager. He always noticed the "good looking" women, making me feel super awkward and they remarking that "I'm not suppose to notice those things though". I never wanted to introduce him to my pretty friends. My dad really was kind to others though. I remember going grocery shopping with him and then we took all the food to a woman he knew who had no income. I remember my Grandmother telling me stories about how my Grandfather was pretty rough on my dad as a kid and then I watched as my dad seemed to be even rougher on my own brother. I sat on the sidelines as my dad continued to belittle my mom in front of the whole family. He let us treat her exactly how he did. He let us treat my brother exactly how he did. Now my dad, a notorious photographer, is getting rid of all the pictures he took of our life and says it is because he has bad memories of his marriage. It sure feels like he is just getting rid of me though, and my siblings. It was our life too. I wish he could deal with his emotions and his past instead of chucking it all. That actually still hurts a lot. There are so many stories to tell but most of all I want to tell my story. How I made it out mostly intact from what seemed to be a perfect family life on the outside because that's how we were taught to think about our family. I broke the abuse cycle that probably didn't even start with my dad or his dad and so did my siblings.                                                                                                                   

See, I really think he was trying to do his best with a tool box full of broken tools. But you use broken tools and results vary and they were not good results either. Maybe he is still trying to do his best but as far as I can tell all his tools are still in ill repair. His life is a web of secrets and half truths. It is really a sad thing to behold. He holds himself up to these crazy weird expectations that he thinks are of God, but I don't think so. I think he sees his religion as black and white and expects his life to be the same. But then when you are human that is impossible. So when things didn't turn out as black and white as he expected he chose red. And he keeps choosing red. I think he also sees his religion as a way to dominate and excuse what he has done, as is often done in a patriarchal society. There are no "I'm sorry's" to his children or his ex-wife. Instead, as an abusive person would do, he married my mom's best friend two weeks after their divorce was final and claims that "Father gave her to me". It's pretty unbelievable sometimes. As far as he is concerned he always chose the right and everyone else chose the wrong. He lives in an impossible world and it must be frustrating. 

So why do I feel so happy these days. I know that my life will not be like my father's. I know I understand The Gospel of Jesus Christ in a different way than him. I live in the grey and I love it. Grey is the best color ever. I don't live with the expectation of blind obedience at every turn. When things don't turn out I don't revert to red, I try a light pink. I do not accept the cultural patriarchy that is in place in my religion. I truly believe it is not right and I have hope that things will change.... I have to have hope. Sometimes I feel pretty different than my peers but when I wonder why I can't be more like that person a quiet assurance comes and lets me know that I am in the place that I need to be and things are as they should be. I'm working through a lot of healing and it is powerful. To realize these things about my father and not do the same makes me fall in love with life even more.  

I'm not sure yet if I feel sympathy or empathy or sorry for my dad. He continues his ways, relentless of what all 7 of his children say to him. He has left a path of broken hearts behind him and has never looked back. Maybe he has, I guess I am just one of those so I'm not quite sure. 

So dad. We don't really talk right now. You are blocked from sending me emails because you are really good a manipulation but I'm pretty sure you read this. I don't hate you. I think you are in a sad sad place that you are trying to dress up as happiness. Don't throw away the pictures, don't throw away your past and my past. When you actually accept that you have work to do and you really do it, things can be beautiful again. 

Maybe this all seems sad, but don't feel sad. I feel an inner peace that has come from these experiences and I also realize that I still have a long way to go. Yeah, I get down and depressed but so far I've always been able to get up again. I know I can give Jude loving parents who respect each other as equals. I can give him the confidence that comes from having parents that truly love each other. I wake up in the mornings and I think about these things and I'm excited to live them with my husband and my Jude. 

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6 woot-woots!:

Mindy said...

That was beautiful! I like making a new, better life with a man who views me as his equal too. It's great to break bad cycles and create the beautiful :)

nomadic gnome said...

Damn girl you really know how to write! xo

Eve said...

Great post patience. I cant believe hes throwing away our childhood.. our lives. Out with the Old, in with the new.

Dave and Rashelle said...

Beautifully written! Love you and that precious boy Jude! XO!

Betina said...

le sigh.

amy j. said...

this really touched my heart. xx