Love, Healing, and Christmas Miracles


Things became quite rough for a while. Shortly after my last post I decided it was time to go home. I had to swallow my pride and ask my daddy to take care of me. Yes, I’m 38 year old and I still call him daddy, especially when I’m feeling vulnerable or overflowing with love for the man. I’ve been blessed with my family. My dad, mom, and brother are all wonderful people. They’ve been my rocks over the course of the last month.

 
And the last month has been a doozy. After my post of there are good days and bad days, it seemed like I had a run of bad days. In fact sometimes if I’m not careful I can look back at the last year and feel like it’s been filled with bad days. In some ways it has, but perspective is so important. The last month has found me disengaging as I try to find my center. I don’t have the energy to listen to others, to sort through their ideas and discard what doesn’t work for me. I don’t have the energy to answer questions, and some questions don’t have answers although I do love how some people will try to tell me how I ended up here. I’m not sure how I ended up here, so I know that they don’t have any clue. I’ve been living it and when it comes down to it, I don’t even share a quarter of what goes on in my mind and life. For someone else to be able to tell me why I ended up here is just laughable… now that I have the energy to laugh again.

 
Right now I’m propped up in bed at my dad’s. He’s been filling me full of good food and basically waiting on me. A little secret, in a way I feel like I’m exactly where I need to be. I have tried so hard all my life to be strong for my dad. He’s a sensitive guy and when I was a teenager I saw his heart get broken into a million pieces. I swore I’d never do that to him. I know that if he lost me, it would do exactly that. It’s probably one of the things that keeps me here on this earth…. One of many things. So I’ve always been extra tough when in fact I’m probably the most sensitive in my whole family. I try to hide it, but it appears over the last few years I’ve failed. For years I felt like I had to take care of my dad. Don’t get me wrong, my dad has been there to bail me out financially, he’s rescued me from the side of the road, but in terms of protecting his heart, that fell to me. It was a heavy weight to carry. When I became sick I did my best to create an environment of hope, and for eight years I was able to do exactly that, but when my world started crashing in June, it appeared I was going to end up on my knees.

 
I finally agreed to move in with my dad, worried how he would handle my current state of well-being. I should of known my strength didn’t just come from my mother. Nope, my father has wrapped his arms around me and held me while I’ve cried out of frustration, out of overwhelm, out of vanity, and emotional exhaustion. He’s told me I will get through this. He’s told me of my improvements even when I struggle to see them. I have been in awe at his ability to care for me. He’s been my hero since I was a little girl, but this was a side of him I never saw before. Maybe there wasn’t a space for it earlier in his life when he supported our family. You can only do so much. Maybe I needed to come home again so I could get a more complete picture. Maybe I needed to come home again so I could fall more deeply in love with my father.

 
My dad remarried after I was already out of the house and while she’s a wonderful woman it wasn’t until I returned home after my divorce that I started to discover just how great she is. This recent return to my father’s house has shown me just how special she is. It’s not just my dad taking care of me, but her as well. She’s let me into her home and never made me uncomfortable or like I’m a burden. As I spend more time here I discover more about her life and I’m in awe. Funny how you can see people frequently for twenty years, but still not really know them. I wouldn’t say this relationship needed to heal, but my life is richer because of the deepening of this relationship.

 
That’s what has happened over the last three years of my life. I have healed all the wounds of my childhood that were created with the people I love most. It started with my mom, then my brother, and now finally my father. Wounds I didn’t even know I had in some cases. I have fallen more deeply in love with each of these people and I don’t think I would trade that for all the health in the world. Although I’d like to think that I don’t have to. I might of needed this experience, but I can also grow past it.

 
This last month I have shrunk back from so many relationships. I couldn’t even tell you why exactly, although this post seems to give some hints as to why. I’m running off of intuition here. To those of you that I haven’t spoken with, the calls I haven’t returned, the messages I haven’t responded to, I’m not going to apologize, instead I’m going to thank you for giving me this time to heal, to discover what I need to learn right now. The fact that I’m writing again tells me that something in me has changed and I will re-engage with the world again when the time is right.

 
I hope to return to my home by the New Year. I’m working towards a Christmas miracle and I believe it’s possible. I’m asking that you believe with me. While I’m staying at my dad’s I’ve kept my apartment with every intention of being able to care for myself again. That’s six weeks from now approximately and a lot can happen in 6 weeks. Christmas has always been my favorite holiday and not because of the presents but because of the energy. There is an energy of hope in the world around Christmas, probably created by the millions of children, but it could have something to do with Christmas cookies as well. Either way, I plan to harness that energy and let if flow through my life.


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