I wasn't wanted as a child. I was raised much the way cattle are. I was fed and physical needs were met. I was a daughter, an investment for old age. I fulfilled that obligation and did nurse my parents before they died. In that time they made verbal amends to me, admitting I had not been treated rightly.
Verbal amends helped. They didn't take away all of the damage none, no more than my amends can take away all the damage done to another, but they paved the way for me to learn what it is to feel wanted and to love myself.
My father was a mad man, a lot like his father before him. He was highly respected in the community, and seen as a kind man. Behind closed doors he was a tyrant...a most moody individual whose moods ran the home. He had little but ridicule to offer my mother, brother and me. My mother adored and protected my brother as much as she could and seemed to blame me for being born, as if I had any say so in the matter. I was told not to outshine my brother. I was sent to my room so often, it became my home place. Today I live in one room with no problem at all.
I used to think I was less than those who had their parent's love, but have found that isn't the case at all. We all have the same value. Some are cherished. Some are not.
Learning to cherish myself has been a long, difficult to learn process, but I am doing well. I have a great deal of hope for myself and my life. My sense of humor runs deep. I am 62 with the ambitions of someone forty years younger. Some of us are late bloomers.
My parents are forgiven. I think of them with love. I don't try to change my memories or deny anything. I want to be loved as who I am, not as who someone pretends I am, so I love the memory of them as such. They both had many fine gifts which I can emulate and make my own. They were both intelligent people and both were very physically attractive. My father's word was gold. It was often wrong, yes, but he kept it. When he said he was going to do something, he was already on his way to do it.
My mother handled money better than a banker. Were she in charge of the country, there never would have been a deficit...and everything would be clean, too. I never saw anything dirty in the home, but neither did I ever see her sweat.
The best way I can figure to honor my parent's amends is to keep going...to continue to grow as I age...to live life to it's fullest and allow joy to replace sorrow. In the end they wanted to see me happy. It counts.
