A bad habit of mine is clearing counters tops and shoving things into drawers. I also clean before the cleaning lady. Something that drives Kris absolutely crazy. Wandering into his bedroom with this plastic bag I thought was more cactus seeds. On the verge of shoving it into one of his drawers.
Instead, I opened it up.
The bag was filled with pictures their biological father was given the day I packed his belongings. Not before calling his father to come and take him away. He needed help. For many years I've been saturated with denial over the pain that chapter provided me. Kris. And Mike. Kali was too little, and yet she has such fond memories with him. And of him. Some really good, and some not really good. Nonetheless, he was a human that made mistakes - Like all of us.
I still stand confident in my truth of why I made him leave. I had to. Years and years of watching the cycle in my own home, to be walking the days and nights with the same unhealthy relationship.
It was time to stop the madness.
This is where my strength benefited all of us.
Still wonder how I got through some of those first few months, and years.
Nighttime being the absolute hardest.
Still glad I trusted myself and my gut to make a change. To shift the cycle for something better for me. For us.
Not sure if I emotionally screwed my babies up for life, but at the time I had to push the illness away.
I sat on Kris' bed and was lost in memory.
Staring down at this.
August 17, 1989
A chapter filled with beauty. And fear. And experience. And curve balls. And love.
A baby we dove in head first to. My fear turned into action. My action turned into full blown protection. Protection turned into my little buddy.
My first car. Isuzu Trooper. Stick shift, LOVED that little red beast!
My little partner in bike rides. Beach days. Camping trips. (ended my career in camping, don't worry, no bueno for me). We hunted for lizards, snakes and polly wogs. We searched high and low for all things creatures. We read tons of books together. ( A reason I believe he's so intelligent!)
We laughed together, and I whip him into place when he got out of line. If someone hurt him, they'd better run, because my protection button was easily pushed.
My decision to split our family into pieces was the healthiest choice.
From addiction.
From alcholism.
Both of those created awful antics.
From many things us humans endure while walking the path with an addict.
Mike is no longer on this Earth. I think of him often. Years of respect, and at times I wish I could just call him. I wish I could share good news, bad news and changes they've both endured.
I can't.
He's gone.
We've all moved along in life. They accepted wholeheartedly the Dad they knew. And fell into love with the dad they know now. The man that showed up. The man that wiped tears, and cleaned boo-boo's, and sat through holiday school programs. lol. Soccer games, and surf comps. He's filled in gaps without the instinctual traits.
Mike would have.
Mike DID in Kris' younger years. They'd hunt for lizards, and snakes, and he'd take him on adventures. He worked hard for his little family. But the wickedness of that battle got the best of him.
It's a disease no one can fully wrap their head around.
You see it.
I see it.
We all see the cycles, over and over again.
There's a legacy left behind from Mike. The fingers on Kali's hands. Her eyebrows. Kris is a replica of him. I see parts of him in them, and yet I stay silent.
Opinions of others was never my jam. Even when family members ultimately decided their belief of me was what they believed, and no one could change that.
I knew my truth. Afterall, I lived in it. I lived through some pretty wild days, months and years.
A giver at heart, mixed with co-dependent human that knew no different.
My post isn't to shame anyone. It's not to make any one person look better than the other.
It is about life.
The misfits that eventually fit in.
The pain unintentionally sprayed through the air.
From me to him, from him to me.
Things will not always be perfect.
Sometimes others need to see that you can make it through.
You can pick up the shattered millions of pieces and put them back together.
They'll show cracks. They'll show pain. They'll show moments of despair in your kids when you just know your decision jacked them up at certain points.
But you take the good with the bad and you keep on moving.
And you make sure that you are trying your best. Giving the two little humans that didn't ask to be brought into this world, a better place.
That was always my plan.
To love them.
To provide for them.
And to make things better.
With love and hope,
This Mama Lisa
Among the rest of the pictures that were once owned by Mike, were his most favorite dog Bubba, his motorcycle. Our many VW's, and lots of camping pictures.
Mike, I hope you are peaceful in Heaven with your bride Theresa. I think of you two often.
The kids are doing fine....
I think so.
Even when the clouds come over and fear grabs us by our neck. We still keep moving. In your memory, we will.
No comments:
Post a Comment