Jul. 5th, 2010

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I had a delightfully girly morning with a friend. We had hot chocolate, we looked at make up (I came home with some really great nail polish and some perfume samples) and clothes and books. I had the time to actually try on clothes and get someone else's opinion on things. I bought a strapless maxi-dress. (you can convert it to have straps) Normally I wouldn't go for something like that but this seemed to work. I rather like it. I even found some trousers that don't suck and a new black cardigan. (my old one is slowly going home to Jesus.) A win all around.
Then it was home to wrangle folk.

I had a couple of conversations with my brother Tom today. He spoke with our Great Uncle. (our Grandfather's younger brother) He explained a bit about our grandfather and also filled in some holes about that side of the family. Pretty much our Grandfather is like Clint Eastwood in Grand Torino. But Italian. A total bad-ass. His birthday is next Monday so my brother is going to call him up and talk sports. It was interesting to hear what our Uncle had to say about our Grandmother. (vainest woman he ever met) I always kind of got the impression that she was a bit of a sociopath just like my Father. Something significant struck me. My Father was raised by his paternal Grandparents for a number of years. Our Grandfather wasn't in the best emotional shape to raise children. (he suffered from really bad PTSD from the war) My Grandmother had run off and so the most stable presence in my Father's life happened to be his grandparents. They absolutely adored the ground he walked on. They loved him to pieces. When my father was a young man he disappeared off the face of the earth and it broke their hearts. They died never knowing what had happened to him. Imagine losing someone you loved like that. I don't think he was ever able to understand what he had done to them. I sometimes wonder if he was unable to understand the concept of love or if he was absolutely frightened by it.
I think of a Bertrand Russell quote, To fear love is to fear life, and those who fear life are already three parts dead.
The man was so busy wallowing over those who wronged him or didn't love him (like his Mother) that he completely missed the fact that there were so many people who did love him. And he pushed away every single person who did love him. His family, his wives, all of his children. Quite a feat there. A man with a lost soul.
I told my sister tonight that there is that part of me that wants to apologize to our Father's family. "I am sorry he caused you so much pain." It wasn't my fault. I just want to provide some... peace.

I realized fairly early on in adulthood that I had been handed a task of some sorts. To end this cycle of dysfunction and inability to love. It is a vocation that I was called to. It has required me to do a lot of forgiving. To be vulnerable and to be very open to love -which is scary at times. I think this is just another part of this journey.

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