Thankful?

Ten years ago, I was at my grandparents' house. Gpa was in a nursing home because of a serious stroke. Gma had Alzheimer's and we found that out the hard way. The original plan was to move them both around Christmastime. While I was there, my parents made the decision to speed up the move and get them back to California because it wasn't safe for Gma to live alone.

That was when my Gma almost ran me over with the car and it was the beginning of my immediate family "going away".

Two years ago Thanksgiving weekend was when I got the word that Mom was in the ICU with pneumonia and had a stroke. Five years ago, I had the last Thanksgiving I would have with both my parents, not knowing that my father would be dead less than a month later.
I'm not the kind of person who goes around looking for these things. In fact, I try to not look for these things, but they sneak up on me anyway.

A few months ago, I found out that I have PTSD. While I'm still trying to figure out what that means, I think it has a lot to do with why some of these days and weeks are so hard for me.

In spite of this, I do have something that I'm thankful for. I'm thankful that I still have a chance to live. It's a lot different than I'd ever imagined it to be, but I still have the chance to make my life worth something, to figure out who I am and what I want to be, and to just plain be.

Haunted by words

My mother was someone who chose her words carefully and meant every one of them. My father would blow up say something stupid and forget what he'd said after he calmed down.

Here is my problem. Lately, I'm being haunted by something my mother said to me. "The biggest mistake I ever made was letting you go to [university] because you learned how to stand up for yourself."

I WANT to let this go, but just wanting to isn't enough. The implications of this are huge. If I were to understand what she said, she said that she regretted my becoming an independent, somewhat responsible adult. She would have been happier if I were a miserable blob only around to take care of her I guess. I don't know.

I'm not sure why this is bothering me so much. I wish it were easier to be able to let it go and forgive her for her ill-conceived words. (Some day I will do that) I also think that if she really believed what she said, she didn't think very much of me. Nobody wants to think their parents feel that way about them!

One one hand she would tell me how she couldn't understand why I was so hard on myself and on the other hand she'd be telling me how inept she thought I was, or just not good enough. I do want to be able to be free of the pain this brings. I guess wanting it is the first step.

Absence

I got so involved in living my life, that I didn't take the time to sit and write about it. Some was good, some not so much.

However, the ongoing theme was that good or bad, I got through it.

One of the sadder markings of time is that 10 years ago was the beginning of the end of my family as I knew it on this earth. My grandfather's stroke was in the fall of 1996. I spent Thanksgiving with my grandmother and it turned into an extended trip to move her back to California. Two Thanksgiving weekends ago was when I got the word from the hospital that my mother was there in poor condition.

That could have something to do with me deciding to get back to the familiar with the blog and also wanting to scream and spend like crazy.

Someone from church was kind enough to invite me over for T-day, but I'm sure all this other stuff will be somewhere in the back of my mind.