Friday, February 11

Thirty days of truth -- Day ten.

Someone you need to let go of or wish you didn't know.

I can't really think of anyone in my life right now that I want to let go of, but I wish I didn't know and had never met my biological father.. If you didn't read my post about "someone who has made your life hell or treated you like crap," this would be a good time to do so. I'm not about to rewrite all of that to make my point!

Herbie is a selfish, rude, manipulative drug user who finds temporary happiness in hurting other people. He's miserable and takes it out on anyone and everyone who will listen to him. I have no idea when this started, because it was before I was born. He made my childhood miserable and though I've learned to forgive him, I still wish I had never met him.

I lived with my dad until I was about seven years old, and kept in contact with him until I was ten. I know how he was at that time and how he dealt with stress. Nothing about him was polite or considerate. His business was thriving because he put himself first and prided himself on a job well done. I know that he prioritized work and money above family and quality time.

I don't know from personal experience (obviously), but I would imagine that people who don't know one of their parents or lost one at a young age (due to relocation or death) at least have the luxury of imagining their mom or dad however they want to imagine them. If I had never met or known my dad, I could image him to be humble, kind and giving. I could imagine him to choose family game night with his children over going to the bar for drinks with a friend. I could imagine him hugging my mother and showering her with love instead of seeing him hit her and hearing her screams.

If I had never known my dad, I could have experienced my childhood as other children did: visits to the park, afternoons playing in the yard with my friends, playing games with my siblings in the living areas of the house laughing loudly and having a great time. Instead, I spent my childhood sneaking myself and my brothers out the back door to have the neighbor call 9-1-1 and hiding in the bedroom with my brothers when my dad came home drunk so that he wouldn't have to see or hear us. He would yell at my mother to keep us quiet and out of sight. He didn't love us.

I let my dad go a long time ago, but there is still that daydream of a happier childhood that didn't involve him or his poisonous words and actions... A childhood of laughter instead of fear. The truth is that I knew my father. He was a bad man, but I knew him. I suppose that those who didn't get the chance to know their father would envy me that fact even if my experience was a negative one. So, who's the lucky one? Me for knowing my dad or someone else for having the ability to daydream about meeting their dad? I'll never know.

Thursday, February 10

Thirty days of truth -- Day nine.

Someone you didn't want to let go of, but just drifted away.

It was actually hard for me to think of someone for this! I'm going to have to say my friend Tina. She's a really great person, but we never talk and I'm not really sure what happened. When I first moved into my last foster home (awkward sentence award!), I met Jenn and Tina, sisters who went to the church that my new parents went to. My foster mother (Pam) had warned their mom not to let them hang out with me because I was a "bad influence," but as it turned out, we met and were instant friends. The three of us were nearly inseparable, I spent a lot of nights at their house, and I alternated having them stay at my house. All day we were together and it was just a matter of who was staying the night where. It was sometimes hard to divvy up my time between sisters who were my best friends, but I think I made it work ok. I had a completely different relationship with each girl, but got along great with both of them.

The girls were home-schooled when I met them, but they soon transfered to the school I went to. That made it extra fun because I got to see them during the day and outside of school too. They transfered to the public school later on and Pam suspected that they were both doing drugs and having sex and God knows what else (Pam is intense, and tends to jump to conclusions and assume things without having all of the facts). Needless to say, she banned me from hanging out with either of "those girls." because now THEY were the bad influence..... It was ridiculous, like a lot of her other rules for me, but I obeyed because I was afraid of her. I lost touch with both of them, but never really rekindled the relationship with Tina. Jenn and I met again a couple of years later at a friend's soccer game, and BANG! Back to being BFFs and spending time together whenever possible.

Tina and I never really ran into each other after that.. We didn't have the same friends, and I didn't see her around town. I was in nursing school full time and I honestly didn't even think about looking her up. I found out later that she had moved to Grand Rapids, about four hours from where I lived. After nursing school, when I needed to take my boards to get my license, I had to go to Grand Rapids to take my test. Since I knew she lived there, I looked her up to see if I could stay with her. She said yes, I went and as soon as I got there, it was literally like no time had passed and we were able to pick our relationship up right where it had left off!! It was really great catching up and seeing how things were going in each other's lives.. I only stayed for one night, but we pledged to keep in touch and to not let it be five or six years before we saw each other again.

That was about four years ago and since then, I've seen her about five times. I saw her twice for exams, once for a seminar and her bachelorette party in the same trip, at her wedding, and once for a vacation in Michigan when my plane landed in Grand Rapids and I stayed the night. So five times in four years? Not such a good number, especially when you know that three of those times were back to back in a three month period. I don't like to use people, but it seems like every time I've seen her in the last ten years (other than her wedding) were because I had something going on in Grand Rapids and it was really convenient for me to stay with her. I love her a lot, but the friendship has basically of disintegrated over time.

I wish we were still close, but that's not the way it is. We never call, text or write and I'm not really sure what happened. I've never been good at keeping in touch, and maybe that's the case for her too. I've invited her to come visit whenever she wants to get away, but so far nothing has come of it. I feel bad that I seem to only see her when I have an ulterior motive, but the truth is that I'm trying to sneak in a visit to try and rekindle that relationship whenever I'm in the area. It's not about saving money... I could just as easily stay in a hotel.

I'm getting married soon, and I've invited her to stand in my wedding. Part of me feels obligated since I stood in hers, and part of me hopes it's a way to further try to rekindle this friendship. I miss hanging out with her, and every time we get together it's like no time has passed and we get along perfectly. I just wish there weren't a bazillion miles between us so that we could strengthen our bond, but this is all I can think of for now.

Thirty days of truth -- Day eight.

Someone who made your life hell or treated you like crap.

This one is easy to answer: Herbert (Herbie), my biological father. He beat my mother on a regular basis, and the police were at our house all the time to break up domestic disturbances. They would always send more than one officer when they were called because he got into fights with them and was always threatening to kill people. Whether or not he would ever kill someone is questionable, but he sure did make a lot of threats! I would have to sneak out the back door when I was in elementary school, little brothers in tow to go to the neighbor's house and have her call 9-1-1. Luckily she was patient and always helped. She also hung one of my dad's business shirts in the window with a big circle around it with a slash through it... She hated him.

I was a daddy's girl and I always thought that the problems with my parents were my mom's fault. Like she drove him to hit her or that she just wanted to ruin our lives by taking us away from him. My dad never hit me or my brothers, and would sometimes take me to his job sites with him (he owned a company that built houses, decks and docks with occasional random construction jobs). When I was ten, I remember my mom coming to pick us up from our dad's house, and I didn't want to go home with her. She told me that my dad didn't even love us and that if I didn't believe her, that I could go back inside and ask him myself. I did, and my dad told me that his company was more important to him than my brothers or I were. From that moment on, I wanted nothing to do with him, and have only spoken to him a few times since (all for legal issues).

After we moved out for good, I found a drawer of letters that he had written to my mom. I snuck them to my room and read them all. What he wrote was awful, and I started to see him for who he really was. I'm so sorry that I treated my mom the way that I did, and regret not listening to her and looking at our situation more objectively and making my own opinions instead of idolizing my daddy.... His rights were ultimately revoked and he couldn't see my brothers or I for visitation until we were over eighteen and out of the foster care system. One of my brothers got back in contact with him, but I haven't and I don't think that my other brother did either.

After I was placed in foster care around age eleven, I used to think "maybe my dad will go to court and fight for me... Maybe he loves me and has cleaned up his act." I wanted to believe that he had changed, and to give him a second chance. Nothing had changed though, and he made no effort to regain rights.. Part of me wishes I could go back and start over with a different dad. I sometimes wish that I had been adopted by a happy family who cared about the welfare of others, with a father figure who loved me like I deserved to be loved. Oh well, we can't have everything, now can we?

A couple of years ago my grandfather, Herbie's dad, died and left EVERYTHING he owned to me. He cut his two living children and my three siblings out of the will. I'm still not 100% sure why he gave it all to me, but he did. A few years before that, my dad almost lost his home to foreclosure from unpaid bills and was in jail, so couldn't do anything about it. He "quick deeded" the house to my grandpa with the verbal understanding that once my dad was out of jail, he would pay my grandpa back and get his home and the contents back. Well.... My grandpa never got the money and never let my dad back in to get his stuff....

Before my grandfather died, he changed the house into MY name. So, I now owned my dad's old house (where I lived until I was like seven years old), the land and all of it's contents. I sold the contents at a garage sale and I sold the house. My dad called my lawyer threatening to kill me (how smart is that?!) and took me to court over it (he lost). I got a PPO against him with the recorded call to my lawyer as evidence of the death threats, and he took me to court to fight it (he lost again). Needless to say, he is still an angry illogical person who thinks the world revolves around him. He tries to make it seem like everyone is out to get him, but they aren't. He is mentally unstable (I read his report from a psychologist's examination) and can't be trusted. He still makes death threats. He still manipulates people. He still blames me for some of the things that are wrong with his life, when they aren't my fault at all.

The good news it that this experience has made me who I am. I think everything happens for a reason, but I haven't figured out yet why this happened to me. Maybe I never will. Either way, he treated me, my mother and my siblings like crap, and has made our lives a lot less pleasant than they could have been. He stole the majority of my oldest brother's trust fund as well. He really is a bad person, as harsh as that sounds.. I've forgiven him for all of the grief and trauma he has caused me, and I do wish him well. I wish that he would get over himself, stop using drugs, go to therapy and start over with his life -- move somewhere new, restart his construction business, and make a positive reputation for himself.

I think we could all use a little therapy, and sometime soon I may enroll myself for some. I have a lot of unresolved anger and sadness as a direct result of how he has affected my life. I've been trying to sort through all of the baggage for a long time, but maybe it's time for some professional help.. Someone who can guide the progress and help me to dig a little deeper to the root of the problem and find some peace and restoration.

Monday, February 7

Thirty days of truth -- Day seven.

Someone who has made your life worth living for.

My grandmother, Maryanne, was an exceptional woman. When I was growing up, I was able to roam around unsupervised and get myself into all sorts of trouble. I won't get into all of that, but I'll just say that there was no discipline in my life. I was on the fast track to jail or worse, and my grandmother was the only person who ever pushed me to do anything. At the time, I thought that she was mean for making me do things that I didn't want to do. She sent me to summer camps, enrolled me into music programs and lessons once she realized my musical talents, encouraged me to go to college, and was the only one who truly believed in me. She always told me that there was nothing I couldn't do, while other family members told me that I wouldn't amount to anything and wouldn't even graduate from high school.

Maryanne was one of three daughters born to Italian immigrants, Dino and Katie Prosello.  She was the oldest, born in 1930. She was a teacher, she coached women's basketball and cheerleading, was head of the drama department, always encouraged others, and lived by example. She was involved in the her town's airport club, book club, bridge club, garden club and several others. She made sure that Boyne City was beautiful and that she contributed in any way that she could. She was an inspiration to many, and through all of the articles and family stories I've heard or read about her, I wish that I had gotten to know her better while she was still alive. She died in June 2003, and for me, it was one of the worst experiences of my life.

Maryanne taught me that there was so much more to life than I could ever imagine, and that just because my mother was single and struggling, I didn't have to end up with a life like that. If I put in the effort, I could excel at anything. She never told me I couldn't do it. She was more of an inspiration that I could ever express. She is the voice in the back of my head that tells me I can and will overcome the obstacles and curve balls that life throws at me. Did I mention that she was an inspiration to many, because she truly was!

When I would spend time with my grandmother, it was always fun. She organized many community rummage sales, so it was always exciting to wade through the millions of free gifts that businesses would send her. She would sing while I played her the latest songs that I had learned on the piano. She took me to her golf games and let me ride in the golf cart with her. We would go out to eat. She taught me to bake (still a passion of mine today!). She showed me that life could be fun if you had the right attitude.

I wish that my grandmother were here today. I know that she would be very proud of all of the things that I've accomplished and proud of the woman I've become. I wish I could tell her about the goals I have and my dreams. I wish she could have seen me graduate and go to college. I wish she could have seen my first apartment. I wish she could have met John. I wish that she could help me plan and attend my wedding. I wish I could sit around and play cards with her, or that we could read the same books and discuss them. I can't write this stuff without crying, because she was so special, and I miss her all the time.

Maryanne was a great lady. She was funny, smart and very dramatic. She had such a great sense of humor and was always pulling pranks. People that knew her well say that I remind them so much of her, and for me, that is the highest compliment I could ever hope to receive. I wish to be like her and to bring joy to others the way she always did. Minus the hairstyle, I look so much like she did when she was my age, that when I found a picture of her a few years ago and I thought, "hmm.... Where did my aunt get this picture of me and when was it taken?" I really hope that when I'm older, I still get to see her face when I look in the mirror.

Through her positive, "never give up" attitude and her love of encouraging others, my grandmother Maryanne has made my life worth living. I'm eternally grateful to her for everything she's ever done for me. I just wish I could see her again to tell her.

Thirty days of truth -- Day six.

Something you hope you never have to do.

I hope I never have to lose John. I'm sure everyone feels this way about their significant other or spouse. I'm not planning on it happening but I do worry about it... How about some background information?

In my life, I've only ever worried about a few things. First, I worried that I would lose my family; that they would die or that I would be taken away. I used to obsess about it, and then one day (about two years after I started worrying about it), I lost them.. I was placed in the foster care system never to live with family again. The second thing I ever worried about was the NCLEX. That's a fancy acronym for National Council Licensure EXamination, the test you have to take after college graduation to get your nursing license and start practicing as an RN or LPN. As soon as I was aware that this exam existed, I started worrying about it. Excessively. The third and only thing I actually worry about these days is losing John, because he is very important to me, and I would be devastated if he left / died.

As I've said before, I value personal relationships more than anything else. I have no trouble opening up to people or making new friends, but I'm really hesitant to get close to people because as a child we moved every single year, and switched schools just as often (I went to FOUR different schools in third grade alone). Being taken away from my family and placed in foster home after foster home just made that problem even worse.. I never knew how long I would be around the same people, and in order to protect myself from being hurt in a move, I just stopped making close friends and kept a handful of acquaintances. Luckily for me, I was placed in a foster home where I lived for ten years, and made two friends who will most assuredly last forever, and gained three of the most fantastic girls as "sisters." Those two girlfriends and I have remained close throughout the years even though we never get together because of the distance that separates us. When we do see each other it's like no time at all has passed and we're able to just pick up exactly where we left off. It's amazing. I've made other good friends along the way, but they don't compare on the same level as these five ladies.

I've lost people before that I was close to, and let me just say that I do NOT handle loss well. The two most devastating losses I've experienced were those of my biological paternal grandmother, Maryanne Watkins (June 2003 to lung cancer), and my dear friend from high school, James Slough (June 2004 to a house fire). I was a complete mess after each, and couldn't even talk about them until a couple of YEARS after their deaths without crying excessively. I still miss them both a lot and think of them often, but I am able to talk freely about them and I have moved on with my life. Other friends and family members that I have lost include (but are not limited to), my aunt Angela, unlce Chet, grandma Flo, grandpa Royal, grandpa Richard, friend Joe Hankins, friend Margo Marley, and many others that I can't think of off of the top of my head because it's one o'clock in the morning.

I keep people from getting too close because I don't want to be hurt anymore by loss. I don't like to be vulnerable. It used to be that once I felt myself getting really close to someone that I would start to push them away and emotionally run as far as I could in the opposite direction. People have mentioned to me before that I have seemed more "distant" and asked me that age old question of "Are you ok?" How do you tell someone that you're pushing them away to protect yourself emotionally without seeming childish or selfish? I don't know....

When I met John, I started to feel something new and exciting.. I had never been in a serious relationship before and  I know now that that feeling is love! I opened myself up to him and one by one, the layers of emotional walls surrounding my heart started to crumble. Yes, I am aware of how corny that last sentence is, but it's true! I don't feel myself emotionally running away, but I do feel extremely vulnerable. I don't want to lose him or be hurt by him, but I know that it's a possibility and the statistics are scary. More than fifty percent of marriages end in divorce, and women on average outlive men. Do I think that John is going to leave me or that our relationship is going to end in divorce? No. Do I worry about it? Yes, but I try not to dwell on it. I want to grow old with him through the good times and the bad times -- no matter what live hands us at the moment.

So there you have it; I hope that I never have to lose anyone that I'm close to ever again. I'm not so worried about my sisters, because I sincerely hope that our relationship is stronger than some silly argument we might have. I'm not worried about my two closest girlfriends, because they met me at the absolute WORST time in my entire life, so if they can be my friends through that, I'm pretty sure that they can be my friends through anything. As for the rest of the friends I've made and kept along the way, I don't think we talk enough for me to be devastated if something ended our relationship, but I'd definitely be upset.. Mostly, I'm worried about losing John. He's quite possibly the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I value our relationship above all. XOXOXO

FYI, if I ever lose John (God, forbid!!) I want to live with my sisters and/or best girlfriends and be like the Golden Girls. Keep that in the back of your minds. =)