My mom is the oldest and only girl in her family.   She has three younger brothers, and the brothers all love to pick on Diane.   My mom is used to it, and has always just accepted it as part of life.   She will pick right back.  To hear the family talk amongst each other, it appears there is no love or respect.   I witnessed something the other day that proved different.   We were visiting my mom's youngest brother.   My mom, grandma, my daughters, and my other uncle were all there as well.   Uncle Greg, (the youngest) was trying to rebuild his fence.   He knew he had to get it done, but was struggling in motivation.   He kept talking about the need to finish.  Finally, my mom, a very take charge kind of person looks at him, and offers to help.   Uncle Greg told her no.   This continued for a little while, until my sixty-three year old mother got up from her chair, grabbed a hammer, and said "Come On!  Thomas, (my other uncle) will help."  Uncle Thomas, Uncle Greg, and my mom walked up the hill to the broken fence, and together began the repair.     My mom held boards in place,  Uncle Thomas hammered, and Uncle Greg made sure everything was level.  

It was a sight to see.   My mom was wearing her bathing suit cover-up.  She chose to ignore the pain in her knee.  My Uncle Thomas was wearing his nice jeans, black t-shirt, and loafers.  Uncle Greg proudly sported his black  knee brace.   One wouldn't know he recently had hip replacement surgery.    The three siblings worked side by side until the fence was fixed.   I was impressed.  I just watched in amazement. 

My mom is constantly picked on and teased by her brothers, but she loves them enough to help do whatever they need.  They feel the same about her.   I am not fortunate enough to have siblings so to see this made me realize again how wonderful it must be to have a sibling.   I thought about my own children and realized how fortunate they are to have each other.

We Are Going To Be OK!!!

When my ex- husband and I separated it was very hard.  I cried a lot.  I couldn't believe I was going to be divorced.  I tried to hide my sadness from my kids, but my little girls are very intuitive.  My oldest always knew when I had been crying.   She also noticed that my friends stopped calling me.    She saw that I no longer went to church. I couldn't deal with it.     She saw the friends I had my entire life, were no longer my friends, but were my ex husband's friends.    It was hard.   She looked through my smile and saw my pain, my little girl.   

Soon after my separation, my oldest said "I guess my dad just wasn't the right man for you."    WOW!!!! She was only 7 at the time.   I couldn't believe it.    She saw my unhappiness in my marriage.  I tried to hide it, but she saw it.    Whenever we talked about the separation and impending divorce, I always looked at my girls and told them "We will be OK!"  I told them over and over again, their mom was tough, and we would be OK.  This became my motto.  Whenever she questioned things.  I reassured her of my love.  I told her, her father loved her as well.   I told her "We would be OK."   I said it with emphasis and belief.  I honestly had to be OK for the sake of my girls.    If they saw a Mom who fell apart constantly, then they would not be strong.    That is not the example I wanted for my girls.

It's only been a year and a few months.  My divorce is completely final.  I am in love with another man.  He is more than I ever hoped or dreamed.  He and I truly are best friends and talk constantly.   He adores me and my girls.  I am a package and he gets that.   My girls are reassured they are loved constantly.   They know I love them, and My New  Love loves them.    I don't need to reassure them as much that we will be OK, because they see it.   When they are with me, they know it and they feel it.     I gave up a lot when I left my ex-husband, but I was very unhappy.    I didn't realize how much my kids saw it, but they did.    I gave up money, my  health insurance, my house, one of my dogs, being able to stay home, and ultimately a church family, and best friends.   It was terrifying!  Now, I am so much better.   I am OK.  I still have sad days because I miss my dog, and my best friend.  I have had to realize my  friends weren't  true, and neither were some of the people I had worshipped with and admired for most of my life. I HATE not having money, but happiness, contentment, and peace of mind are more important than money in the bank.    Can I get an "Amen!"?

My girls are doing well in school.   My oldest is a very strong in math.   She has some difficulty in reading, but contiues to improve.  She has wonderful friends.    One of her little friends, "is her true, true friend, because she understands."   My youngest is ready for kindergarten, but her father wants to hold her back.   He says she has emotional issues, and has been through a lot of turmoil.   She doesn't, and she is better than fine, but fighting it is too tough, and emotionally draining on me, and then the girls because I can't be the loving Mom my girls need.  My girls believe they are OK.    So many people told me I was going to mess up their lives.   They would never recover.   I knew they would.  I have and had faith in my kids.    I knew they would have issues if I stayed in an unhappy marriage, or if I did what I needed to do, by leaving their father.    There would be issues either way.  Who doesn't have an issue here and there?  

I really believe my girls and I are going to continue to be OK.   I don't just believe it, I feel it throughout my entire being.  

Friends come and go in our life.  Sometimes we are lucky enough to have a friend from the time we are children on to adulthood.  We think that friend will never leave us. Things happen, and they do.   Other times, we have friends for just periods in our life to help us get through trying  times. Sometimes it takes going through our most difficult times to bring us our closest friends.    I have always wanted a friend who has had the same experience as me.  I found her.   She and I both get to mark the d box next to our  marital status. 

Tish is a mom of two little girls like me.  Our oldest girls are the same age and the best of friends.  Our youngest are just a year apart.  My daughters refer to Tish's daughters as their BFF's.   Tish and I met because of our children.  I am so thankful for her.  She and I have had similar experiences.    We are able to laugh and joke about the pain of divorce.  We laugh about how it was "all our fault".   We seriously understand the difficulty of having to send our babies back and forth.     We are there to support one another.   She is wonderful.   I even spent the night at her house when it was her oldest daughter's slumber party.    I would never have done that if I had been married. 

Our boyfriends get along as well.  We have spent hours talking, laughing,  and playing games, something I have always wanted to do.   I always hoped and even prayed for a friend who had kids the same age as mine.   I always wanted to have a friend whose significant other got along with mine.  I have it now.  Divorce is hard, but good can come from it too.   Thanks Tish for being my "true friend and understanding me."  

Every person needs love.  Every person gives love in one way or another.  Often times we give our love the only way we know how.   Sometimes though, we give love, but for whatever reason, the way we give love is not the same way the person needs love.  

I grew up in a home where love was shown by the work done.  My father was a very hard worker.  He was a laborer. He worked  Monday through Friday, and then slaved around the house on the weekends to make sure our lawns were the greenest in town, our roses were the prettiest, our bushes were evenly trimmed, our cars shined as we drove around, etc.  I always doubted my dad's love.    He wasn't big into physical affection or loving words.  He never said he loved me.  I only heard "Ain't I lucky."  in response to "I love you Daddy."   When my dad past away unexpectedly almost thirteen years ago, I grieved, oh how I grieved.   I lost a man who meant so much to me, but yet I was always so afraid of his thoughts and actions.  At his funeral, we played "The Greatest Man I Never Knew" by Reba McEntire.   The song basically talked about a dad who worked hard, but didn't really talk much to his daughter.  The last line says "He never said he loved me, guess he thought I knew."   That is powerful.   That was my relationship with my dad.   It took me years to realize, the way Daddy communicated love to me was by working.    He didnt' know how to communicate it any other way.  I spent many hours angry because I thought doggone it, why didnt' he know?   I can't answer that.  I just have to convince myself he did.   I wanted my dad to hug me and tell me he loved me.  He was not capable.  I wanted my dad to tell me I was beautiful, instead he told me "don't get above your britches."   I wanted my dad to dance with me at my wedding.  He wasn't a dancer.  He did sing and play his guitar.  That was very special, but we fought for months, and even on the way to the church about him doing it.  I grew up feeling unloved by my dad.  I felt like I didn't matter.    I felt like he wanted a boy.   I felt like I never measured up.  I honestly felt like a constant disappointment.  I wasn't, but I felt like I was, and I have had the hardest time convincing myself otherwise.

Thankfully after a person dies, often times, we are able to look back and remember the good, instead of the bad.  It kind of comes and goes.    I can count on my hand, the times I knew and was secure in the fact that Daddy loved me.    When I graduated from high school, the smile on his face was huge.   My dad didn't smile much, but he did that day.   I hold on to that.   When I tried to learn to play the guitar, (his instrument), he was proud as well.    My dad had a degree in American History.   One of my favorite classes in college was African American History.  We often sat down and discussed the class.  I aced a test, and then I came home and gave him the same test.     He was proud then as well.   I have had to dig through my memories and find other small things.  It has been a long difficult process, but  thankfully I have found some.  

I think as parents we need to not only communicate our love to our children in ways we know how, BUT ALSO in the ways they need us.   If it is uncomfortable for us, we still need to do it.  Our children are worth it.    Our children deserve it.    I am glad I can look back and realize Daddy did love me the best way he knew how.