As I ponder the reality that in less than 10 hours I will be back at the normal routine, all I can say is another day, another dolla makes me wanna scream and holla, but before I go to the point of screaming, and holding on to the front door as Steve pushes me out of it and says, "you have to go to work young lady..." I will revel in the bliss, the shear joy that was experienced the Thanksgiving of 2009!
Okay, so the past 5 days have been pure bliss. Seriously, bliss. It actually all began the weekend before Thanksgiving, as that was my special Thanksgiving with my daughters and their families. It was only yesterday, or so it seems, that I was their only real family. Now, when I try to make plans with them, I am no longer the only real that there is. Don't get me wrong. I find great joy in seeing that they are expanding the family. I am glad that they have cousins, in-laws, babies, friends, grandmothers, etc. It is just that, well, it has taken some getting use to. The past 6 years has been a whole lotta gettin' use to time. That is what happens when the family that you have known gets caught up in a wind storm of change as a result of deaths, divorce, movement about for jobs, etc. Women of the past did not have to worry about this. They were homebound. They were the nucleus. "A man shall leave his mother, a woman leave her home..." and I think there was a clause in there that said, the woman's mother gets all first dibs at holidays. I can honestly say that I never had that luxury. My family always came second to my ex-husbands. His branch of the tree made sure that the matriarchal covenant choked out this matriarch's branch. I think that that is what bothers me most of all. I was robbed of ever being a matriarch. I will never know that feeling. I did not get to see my mother be the matriarch, (or at least if she was, I was too unaware of it, as she died when I was only 20) and now due to divorce and the pervasive presents of my ex, and additional matriarchal figures, I am on the outside, sort of. Now do not get me wrong. I talk with my daughters everyday. They know that I am here, and I know where they are. I love them and those that they love deeply. I rejoice when I get to see them, and to be quite honest, I love being what I am the most for them, me, or as my grandchildren will call me, MeMe.
So it is with great joy that I do as my father once pointed out to me...if you let a bird go and them come back to you, then you know belonged to you all along...
Quite frankly, I would rather my children come to me any day of the year (not just because Hallmark proclaims the date as having some profound significance), know that my door is open onto them without judgement, expectation, and just because we happen to really like each other.
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