The more things change....

I wrote this post on 2/15/10 in the other blog.....

My 9 year old son is at his friend Brady's today.

Yesterday, my father took my son and Brady to the movies, and then the boys went to Brady's dad's house and had a sleepover. This morning, they are out to breakfast with Brady's grandfather.

If you had told me 10 years ago that my son would be out to breakfast with Brady's grandfather, I would have laughed hysterically.

Brady's grandparents were close friends with my mother and father back when they were married. We went on vacation with them, had Sunday dinners at their house, and spent tons of time with them. The reason my parents bought a motel is because Brady's grandparents owned one and convinced them they should too. I was friendly with the S boys - Brady's grandparents had three who were a little bit older than me - and we were like a big happy family.

Until we weren't anymore. One day, it all stopped. With no explanation, it just ended. We no longer spent time with them or talked to them.

I was little, and I didn't really wonder too much about it. When I was 12, though, and my parents started their divorce, with the nasty accusations of infidelity, I started wondering. When a second family friendship disappeared just as quickly, with just as little explanation, my fears were confirmed. This is why my parents were no longer friends with the S's.

I asked my dad one day, when he was in the throes of his messy divorce, why were not friends with the S's anymore. He told me, in perhaps the inappropriate way that sealed our boundary crossing ways for life, that there was some switching of partners and it led, not unpredictably, to a destruction of the friendship.

I took that in much in the same way that I took in most of my family's unsavory secrets. I thought they were fucked up, but it had nothing to do with me. I was a mini-adult - twelve years old, mothering my heartbroken father while trying to process information that any twelve year old (even a mature, intelligent one) cannot truly process.

So, my dad had his locker close to Mr. S's for 30 years at the YMCA - and they never talked.  They saw each other close to 5 times per week for all that time, and they never acknowledged each other.  They maintained an icy truce of pretending the other didn't exist.  

Until one day, Mr. S. asked to speak to my dad, and they made up.  I don't think there was any big apologies or anything - it was more like, "This is stupid.  We have been ignoring each other for 30 years.  Water under the bridge and all..."

And, now they are friends.  Not best friends, but they have gone to Yankee games together.   My dad went to one of the son's weddings.  We have been invited to Superbowl parties at their motel.  When my grandmother died, the S's were present at the wake, the post wake eating frenzy, the funeral, and the post funeral dinner.  Just like that, it was all, if not forgotten, at least shelved. 

And now, my son is friends with a S boy of the next generation.  

How bizarre. 

Happy Valentine's Day

I wrote this post on another blog (which I am merging into this one) on 2/14/10.

Today is my dad' s anniversary. He has been married to my stepmother, let's see, 19 years. They lived together for at least 6 years before that. So, they have been together for a quarter of a century.

His wife is divorcing him. He has become the same man he was when my mom left him. I am immediately transported back to the kitchen in my childhood home, when my father, my sister and I walked in after the court prescribed switch.

My mom and dad had two residences while I was growing up; a house and a motel, which were about 15 miles apart. We lived at the motel in the summers, and at the house the other 10 months of the year. When my mom left my father, it was summer. So, she left the motel and moved home to our house.

After the court stuff, where I announced with conviction that I wanted to live with my father, at our house, my father, sister, and I went back to the house, and my mom went to the motel.

My mom was not happy about the outcome of the court proceedings. She fully believed that she would get the house and the kids, and when she didn't, she was, in a word, pissed.

She stripped the house of everything. She took the sheets off the beds. She took all the pots and pans. She took the Christmas tree and ornaments. She took everything that wasn't nailed down.

When we walked into the kitchen, we felt robbed.

That is how I feel now.

I feel like Sandy is robbing my kids of their childhood, much like my mom robbed me of mine.

Because I didn't invite my stepmother to my house for my father's birthday dinner, she thinks I am taking sides. Who knows, maybe I am. I didn't want what is supposed to be a happy occasion to be a spoiled by her passive aggressive bullshit. If they are getting divorced, why on earth would she want to come to his birthday celebration?

She speaks to him as little as possible, and generally has a sour look on her face when we are all together. Not only do I not want to see it, I don't want to expose my kids to it anymore than I have to.

My job is to protect my children. My husband and I work hard at our marriage so that our kids never have to deal with the feelings and the aftermath of the messy divorce that rendered me an alcoholic, and my sister a mentally ill anorexic.

And now, my parents are screwing up another generation. I can only hope that my husband and I can counteract the bullshit with love and consideration, and try to limit the exposure that they get.

The things I can do sober.....

never fail to amaze me. It is such a simple thing. Just don't put any alcohol in my system. But for so long it eluded me.

I have a new job. At a state agency, for lots more money and much better benefits. And, I will have additional opportunities for advancement. I start November 12. I am sad to leave my job as I love the people and the work, but this is a better career move, and I am excited about it. My current job was exactly what I needed to get me back into the swing of "the real world."

My new job is in criminal justice. It is so interesting how I look at things through the glasses of the AA program. I hesitate to get too spiritual or religious on here, because it hasn't been who I am in the past and my old friends might think I went crazy, but I do believe in the blessings of the program. I am beginning to think that God wants me to be working in criminal justice.

I majored in psychology in college and intended to become a counselor of some sort. After college I took an entry level job in an agency and I worked in conflict resolution. My boss was nutso, so after a year I transferred to another department in that agency - in criminal justice. I enjoyed it.

After another year I got a job closer to home teaching substance abuse in area schools. Then, a random job in the criminal justice field opened up in THAT agency, and I was asked to take it because I was the only one there with any criminal justice experience. I did that job for 6 years.

Then, I started in development (fundraising) at my current job. Out of the blue the state agency that I had taken a test with called for an interview - amid a hiring freeze. They got a large amount of stimulus funds and a job was created to oversee the grants they are giving out.

It is like I keep getting these subtle nudges in a certain direction - so I will do it! I like criminal justice. And, maybe God has big plans for me in that field.

On that note, my sponsor and I are going to formally take the third step together next week.

Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.

Since joining the program, this step has tripped me up, and I haven't felt ready to do it. I haven't wanted to turn anything over. I want to be in charge. Turning things over (to me) has always seemed like giving up. Giving up power, or control, or something. But, man, is it liberating to realize that some things are out of your control. REALLY out of your control.

That doesn't give you license to do nothing or not try. That always confused me too. You still need to do the work. 

Postscript:  I started this post many months ago.  I am going to publish it now.  I did take the third step with my sponsor and every day have to remind myself to turn things over.  I am now working on my fourth step.  More on that later.....