grief

I am in another grieving cycle. Beats the heck out of me what it's about, but I'll just talk about it and maybe I'll know what I'm thinking when I read what I wrote.

Last year I had back troubles. After a diagnosis of a herniated disc, and repeated prescriptions for pain medication and muscle relaxants (both addictive, but David said we'll deal with that when it's time for it), I became unable to walk.

Sitting in wheel chairs and watching others saunter brought on a pity party and jealousy of the likes I never hope to see in myself again. Eventually, I was able to grieve the loss of my ability to walk and to get to some acceptance that this was what is next.

When the pain got so bad that I couldn't sleep without propping myself in strange foetal knots, I knew that I couldn't live this way. A trip to the emergency room, three days immobilized in the hospital, and a spinal surgery led to my walking onto a plane two days post-op and going home: walking and pain free. I had avoided surgery because of all the friends I have who were worse for it. For me, it was miraculous.

From this experience, I learned that I can survive sudden grief and loss, can move on, can deal with what life gives us.

The grief that is eating me up is a grief of regret. I feel like I have failed my husband and my kids.

When David and I got together, I was sure that our love was the answer to all the questions. Didn't the kids' mother need the freedom to come to terms with accepting herself as gay? Didn't the kids want a mother who wanted to be domestic for them? Didn't David need help with the weights of parenting? Oilah! Let's fix this thing.

I don't know if my regret is over my naivete, hubris, or just the way things didn't work out as we saw they could have. The kids immediately took a hate to me. They also loved me. Which made the hate worse. I immediately went into disciplinarian mode, which fueled more hate and I felt was the only way to give stability in their volatile, changing lives.

Oh the things I would do differently. One of them would be to stop trying so hard. I wanted to help, sure, but there was an effort in controlling the course of a river that was already well past the fork. What did I think we could do with that?

So, now we're here, with things as they are, and I keep making myself remember not to try so hard. And we're fine. We're just not where we pictured, as far as bringing peace to the kids' lives and helping them find their ways without additional pain.

And that makes us different from any other family... how?

I just wish that I knew then what I know now. Don't we all!? I would have loved the kids in a much better way for them than I was able to understand at the time. And so I grieve the lost opportunities and the damages I've done in doing my best.

And now? Now I'll just remember to love and let go. That's where we are now in parenting. It's time for us to focus on our Kuleanas (responsibilities, business) and let the kids find focus on theirs.