Missing my grandmothers

I talked about it some on Facebook, but I know people tire of reading my stuff…they tell me so. So here, I will write about it.

I’m missing my grandmothers tonight. It’s funny – I thought that I’d be wracked with guilt and sadness when Nanny died, and I was, for a while…the sadness, but surprisingly NOT the guilt. I thought it would be unbearable when I lost Memaw, but for the most part, it’s okay.

But then there are those times….

When I see pictures or videos of Memaw, I can’t accurately describe what goes on inside me. It is a horrible feeling, a deep, all-encompassing feeling of loss. The grief is still so incredibly deep, after almost two years of her being gone. She was my lighthouse, and when the lighthouse burned out…physically, anyway…I still sail. I know what direction to sail. I know what to look out for, to some degree. I know how to navigate the rough waters…at least, better than I used to know. But I sure do miss that light. 

It feels as if part of my soul has been ripped away. When I see her, it’s like a sudden punch to the gut, except it’s not JUST the gut. It’s every part of me, especially what constitutes the "heart", which is really part of the mind, wouldn’t you say?

I have to make them proud of me. I have to live up to the standards they set, whether quietly or out loud. 

Nanny caused a lot of damage to me. There were times, some documented here in this diary, when I felt I hated her with all possible passion. There was also a fun side, a funny side, a strong determination, a fierce will to live (in spite of wishing for death). I know she was mean because she loved me so much. It’s not excusing what all she did; just explaining. I miss HER, not the bullshit that could accompany her.

We forgave each other. That really did make it all instantly better. I am no longer bitter about her mind games, attempting to tear apart my relationships with family members, and slanted rememberances of Daddy. Daddy was a good man with a bad temper. She made him out to be innocent in every situation, especially when he was directly to blame for them. I couldn’t stand that for two reasons. One, it wasn’t true. Two, not only did she make Daddy innocent, it all served to turn my Mama into a villain. She was ALWAYS guilty. And I bought into it for so so long. Not anymore.

Maybe we all go through a time when we feel it’s necessary to BLAME people for things. I know I have battled that. Now, though, I see things differently. I know Mama didn’t always put me where I should have been in her priorities, but I understand better now. I know Daddy loved me, after years of wondering if he hated me or I hated him. I don’t hate him. I can’t, nor do I want to. 

Being politically correct doesn’t work so well. Mama always tried/tries too hard to please everybody. I have that, too, I guess, but I’m learning that as long as my family is ok, I’m ok. Own your own problems, as Mama always said. Ok, I will. What I do is my responsibility. What others do is theirs. Some consequences of either may be my fault or not, but I’m learning to discern the difference. My daughters and grandchildren need me to be an example of someone to emulate. I am horrified by the notion that I may be the one they talk about, someday, and say, "Boy, I’m glad I’m not like HIM!" 

I want to be more like my kids. I think that makes me an unusual parent. I see so many other parents who talk badly about their children, and it just floors me. Even at my angriest at Tiffany, for losing custody of the kidlets, I never let her know I was that angry, because  she was in enough pain without having that. I still loved her, obviously…I was so incredibly mad I wanted to break every bone in her body, sometimes, but then she’d call and be crying, and it took the anger away, til the next time. I’m not angry with her anymore. Again, I guess it’s just the way I cope. I go through intense anger and hostility, bitterness, then I get the hell over it.

Everything happens for a reason, and I WILL NOT be dissuaded from that belief. Just like I will never NOT believe in God. I KNOW He’s there, whether anyone else knows or not. I wish everyone could know, because it’s the greatest feeling. And I don’t want to push anyone away from God. I want to draw them to Him, so I try to be very careful about it. I talk about God a lot, but I try hard never even to THINK a condescending thought on those who don’t feel the way I do. What I wish for the most is mercy. For everyone, including me. Mercy, so that whatever we go through, it will be for some benefit, for God’s glory.

I have no desire to be a religious zealot. I DO want to become more educated about things, but I don’t want to cram it down anyone’s throat. When I quote scripture, it’s not to say, "Ha! I told you so!" or "You’re gonna burn in Hell!"…no, it’s to reassure people about things, to share the love I feel from God.

Maybe it will work out. I sure do hope so.