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Can't give an inch...
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 642342" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>That's the hellishness of our situations. Even knowing better...how do you not help your own child, your own grandchildren? And when finally, you reach that point where you get it that the time and money and focus taken from your life and turned onto theirs has never worked <em>but they again need more help than you can possibly afford to give them</em>...that is the hellishness of our situations.</p><p></p><p>But they still need, they still want, they still waste time and money and life focus. </p><p></p><p>Trying to know how to live with ourselves, whether we help or whether we do not help, that is why we are all here, learning how to do this without destroying ourselves. No one wants to parent the way we have to learn to parent. </p><p></p><p>But if we do not learn, if we refuse to see, we remain innocents at our own peril.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Over time...while I love my children, as I let go of my sense of responsibility for where they have taken their lives, I am beginning to really dislike the nature of our interactions. It isn't any more the keen hurt of all those questions about why this happened. Nor is it grief over shipping money out instead of gifts because we no longer know our children or grands well enough to have a clue what they want. </p><p></p><p>I know them well enough to know that what they want is money.</p><p></p><p>And I know them well enough to know that no matter how much we send, that money that was ours will disappear. It will be just gone. Nothing to show for it, at all.</p><p></p><p>It will only be that we have less money.</p><p></p><p>There is no joy in helping, or treating someone special ~ none of that.</p><p></p><p>Just gone money.</p><p></p><p>Christmas is an excuse to send money I now refuse to send any other time. The Christmas money we send has gone from being a joyful expression of loving to a kind of blood money, a kind of celebration by rote.</p><p></p><p>There.</p><p></p><p>All the right things have been done.</p><p></p><p>And while that tears at my heart, it is true. So it does not tear at my heart, anymore. Once you accept the truth as the truth, it doesn't hurt anymore.</p><p></p><p>Truly, it is what it is.</p><p></p><p>It isn't even knowing full well we will be alone on the holidays watching from the outside while friends and neighbors host their successful adult children, their well tended grandchildren.</p><p></p><p>That used to kill.</p><p></p><p>Now it is expected, and I no longer feel that I have to replace those missing faces with other faces, any faces, anything not to think about what has happened to all of us.</p><p></p><p>No.</p><p></p><p>I am thinking about running down to Key West with husband for Christmas.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Because of a discussion on Watercooler, I am now reading: <u>Dangerous Personalities</u>. </p><p></p><p>Written by an FBI profiler whose intention is to inform the average person about the dangerous personality types any of us might be victimized by...the book actually describes what it is to be victimized by our own children very well.</p><p></p><p>It is this writer's contention that such personality types do not change.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p><p></p><p>.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 642342, member: 17461"] That's the hellishness of our situations. Even knowing better...how do you not help your own child, your own grandchildren? And when finally, you reach that point where you get it that the time and money and focus taken from your life and turned onto theirs has never worked [I]but they again need more help than you can possibly afford to give them[/I]...that is the hellishness of our situations. But they still need, they still want, they still waste time and money and life focus. Trying to know how to live with ourselves, whether we help or whether we do not help, that is why we are all here, learning how to do this without destroying ourselves. No one wants to parent the way we have to learn to parent. But if we do not learn, if we refuse to see, we remain innocents at our own peril. *** Over time...while I love my children, as I let go of my sense of responsibility for where they have taken their lives, I am beginning to really dislike the nature of our interactions. It isn't any more the keen hurt of all those questions about why this happened. Nor is it grief over shipping money out instead of gifts because we no longer know our children or grands well enough to have a clue what they want. I know them well enough to know that what they want is money. And I know them well enough to know that no matter how much we send, that money that was ours will disappear. It will be just gone. Nothing to show for it, at all. It will only be that we have less money. There is no joy in helping, or treating someone special ~ none of that. Just gone money. Christmas is an excuse to send money I now refuse to send any other time. The Christmas money we send has gone from being a joyful expression of loving to a kind of blood money, a kind of celebration by rote. There. All the right things have been done. And while that tears at my heart, it is true. So it does not tear at my heart, anymore. Once you accept the truth as the truth, it doesn't hurt anymore. Truly, it is what it is. It isn't even knowing full well we will be alone on the holidays watching from the outside while friends and neighbors host their successful adult children, their well tended grandchildren. That used to kill. Now it is expected, and I no longer feel that I have to replace those missing faces with other faces, any faces, anything not to think about what has happened to all of us. No. I am thinking about running down to Key West with husband for Christmas. *** Because of a discussion on Watercooler, I am now reading: [U]Dangerous Personalities[/U]. Written by an FBI profiler whose intention is to inform the average person about the dangerous personality types any of us might be victimized by...the book actually describes what it is to be victimized by our own children very well. It is this writer's contention that such personality types do not change. Cedar . [/QUOTE]
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