“Time is a lot of things people say that God is. There’s the always preexisting, and having no end. There’s the notion of being all powerful-because nothing can stand against time, can it? Not mountains, not armies.
And time is, of course, all-healing. Give anything enough time, and everything is taken care of: all pain encompassed, all hardship erased, all loss subsumed.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Remember, man, that thou art dust; and unto dust thou shalt return.
And if Time is anything akin to God, I suppose that Memory must be the Devil.”
-Diana Gabaldon Breath of Snow and Ashes
This post has nothing to do with spanking. I’m really just attempting to get all of this garbage out of my system. I’ve been debating about whether I even wanted to publish this because it is such personal and sensitive subject. It leaves me feeling very exposed, but I am trying to be open, stay open, so here it is…
I’ve been trying not to think about it, but it’s going to be in my face soon enough. I have to just figure it out. My relationship with my grandmother is complicated at best. She apparently had a great time with me when I was very young, and I do have vague positive memories of those times. However, as I grew up at about 8 years old I turned into somebody she didn’t like so much. I was not so controllable, not so mailable anymore. She never lived very close to me, so there were long spans of time between visits, so maybe my independence came as a shock to her. Anyway, she has caused me an incredible amount of pain in my life. She berates and belittles, criticizes and judges, she is just plain mean and selfish in my opinion. At around 10 or 11 she and my mom left me at a mall for four hours and sent other family members back to get me, (it’s a long story) that was probably the last straw for me, though we continued to have a stilted speaking relationship. She always pretended nothing happened that day, and I just wasn’t allowed to be angry. A few years ago things finally came to a head at my last and final visit to my grandparents home. We got into a shouting match and we both said a lot of things. I’m an adult and she was in my face over something that was none of her business, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I almost left that night with my two kids and was going to fly home early. It was that bad. My love for my grandpa kept me there. After calming down I felt bad about the way I said things, but not what I actually said. The next day I apologized for how I handled things, but she was not interested in any of it. That was fine with me. We haven’t spoken since and I do not expect to ever again. At this time she is in the hospital with a lung disease, her condition is up and down. I’d be surprised if she makes it three more months. Up til now I’ve successfully kept her out of my thoughts. It’s hard to escape the situation as my mom lives near, I see and talk to her frequently, and she is constantly upset. It is very difficult to deal with her feelings because as you can imagine she and don’t have an ideal relationship either. I’ve tried to keep both of them at arms length just to avoid further damage, though I can say since I’ve grown up, my mom has done some growing of her own. Anyway, I’m not so much experiencing pain as I am emotional discomfort, a sort of cognitive dissonance. Pain is easier (maybe), I can sit with it, it’s more final, I can move through it with time. It’s a heavy feeling in my chest vs not being able to sit still. This uncomfortable feeling I have just makes me anxious, jumpy, unsure. What is the conflict? I put this person out of my life for good, she’s already gone in my eyes, I cannot allow her back in my life, and even if I did I have been told she has no interest in talking to me. Fine, that’s ok. But I still feel sadness and loss knowing that she will be gone in a matter of time. And then it is over. I’ve wondered if subconsciously I expected her to contact me and at least say goodbye, because consciously I don’t expect that. It’s just not who she is. The reality is that it’s already over, it has been over, there should be no rush of feelings for me, but there is… and it’s strange. Feelings of anger, abandonment, grief and loss are invading me, asking me questions. They affect every relationship I have. Does my husband really care about me? Will my friends desert me when I need them? Should I allow my feelings out, they might scare people away, or worse, they will say they’re invalid?
My conclusions at this moment are this; I have got to get over it. I have to stop thinking this way. I cannot let what happened overshadow the rest of my life, the rest of my relationships. There is a reason that I experience doubts, but it has nothing to do with everyone else. I’ve got to remember that…