Sappy and sentimental

Moving toward love instead of self loathing

Do you know what I’ve been through?

It’s a question, a joke really, that I used to blurt out to friends in AA after I experienced some letdown, after I got sober 30+ years ago. Getting sober is not for the faint of heart.

It was a case of ‘I knew not what I said’ -- and how important it was saying it since it marked the beginning of recovery from not only alcohol and drugs but of abuse, self-loathing and many other less-than-helpful traits that were in reality, my solutions to life as I knew it.  

Yes, alcohol, drugs and other self-destructive behaviors were solutions to my trauma. As I’ve twisted and turned and rebelled at doing life in truly healthy ways, and letting go of the trauma, I’ve also been moving toward love – despite myself.

I used to cringe at the sappy and sentimental. I am no longer that person.

Yesterday was one of the best days I can remember. So much love, so much bliss and feelings of peace and contentment that I hope stays with me into the morass and quagmire of the coming year.

Yesterday began with a phone call from my only granddaughter. “Grandma, when are you coming over to paint with me,” she asked. I was due to arrive at 10:00 a.m. and it was only 9:15. “I’m waiting for you.”

At 10 years old, Isabella is one of the sweetest girls on the planet. I watch her with wonder, inevitably comparing myself to her at the same age. It brings me gratitude for her and me, and helps me see life from a different perspective. She is so full of life, playing basketball with her team called the Dawg’s, skiing all day long on the slopes, loving her gymnastics, and being sure of herself most of the time (or at least acting like she’s sure). She and my grandson Korbin are pure potential.

Korbin turned 13 in August and although he has had to endure all the jokes about being a teenager, it’s so apparent that he’s changing and is undergoing the testing of himself and the beginning of his search for who he is, that will go on for the next decade or so. He’s the absolute cutest boy in the room. He spent the summer before middle school trying out different hairstyles to accompany him through the trials and tribulations that he knows will reveal themselves on his path through life.

Korbin is a talented basketballer as well, patiently, and sometimes impatiently, waiting for a growth spurt. While Isabella is the tallest on her team, Korbin is one of the shortest. We’re all praying for the growth spurt. In the meantime. he’s reluctantly going to school and getting mostly A’s and playing lots and lots of video games.

Yesterday, looking forward to spending the morning with both kids, I jumped out of bed, packed up my painting paraphernalia and drove out. Ahh, a day of rest, relaxation, and art.

I was giving a lesson in watercolors and both kids were following along (in between dog hugs and lunch). I felt so close to them both, laughing, teasing, and watching them express themselves with paint. I treasure these moments with them. What follows these is me trying not to beat myself up for the inevitable feelings of bad mom, bad mom, bad mom … that I should have done a better job when I was their dad’s mom.

I used to feel imprisoned in those feelings of dread from the past, and the depression that they bring. I sought to eradicate them by analyzing why I was having them but that never helped. I’m learning to move on past them to choose love instead, and allow the love to seep in more and more. It’s a conscious letting go of that which doesn’t serve me anymore.

I spent the afternoon with Justin, my 25-year-old grandson, who is living across the country in Connecticut since he graduated from WSU. I miss him so much. He always has been a most fascinating individual and someone who can cause a paradigm shift in my stubborn psyche. We have had some incredible conversations he and I. I’m able to set aside my preformed judgments and actually listen to what he’s saying without too much disagreement. He’s so frigging intelligent. I think it’s why I can put down my aggressive-I’m right-you’re-wrong attitude. We shopped and talked for several hours before going on to have dinner with my husband and daughter.

The dinner was perfect. The food was delicious, the waitstaff friendly and warm … it’s so nice when people remember who you are, and are actually, and genuinely, glad to see you. We walked from the restaurant downtown to a nearby Italian gelato shop that everyone loves.

Forty years ago, when my own kids were the age of my grandkids, I was caught up in my own angst, extreme behaviors and parental fear of failure that many times I wasn’t there for myself, or my kids.

My grandchildren have never seen me drinking or using. I’ve so proud of that.

Yesterday was precious. I got to spend the day with both my grown adults, all three of my grandchildren and I’m full to the brim with love and acceptance.  

Today, I am humming with energy, looking forward to the New Year and have resolved to continue to move away from the trauma and into the love.

Love isn’t all we need, but it sure helps.

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