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In a totally new place and need perspective? Cedar? Anyone?
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 665057" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>Well, maybe that is where I will get to, too. Here is a secret: Right now? I am still hoping for a miraculous revelation and...dinner.</p><p></p><p>Christmas dinner, this time.</p><p></p><p>It was disturbing to me to post about Christmas. It seems that my mother did love me, after all. And that made me feel really badly about the way I post about her here.</p><p></p><p>And badly for me, because what I post about here ~ those terrible things are also true.</p><p></p><p>All I could conclude is that if there is an answer, I don't know what it is. I do know those memories weaken me now, in my adulthood.</p><p></p><p>And I know I want to be whole, and with access to all of myself.</p><p></p><p>So then I felt better, but I was very sad for a time, after remembering Christmas morning and how pretty everything was, and how the perfect toys would be there for each of us. They say there are two kinds of little girls, did you know that, Serenity and Copa and everyone reading along? One kind of little girl loves baby dolls and one, loves horses.</p><p></p><p>I was the kind of little girl who loved horses.</p><p></p><p>And there was always a horse of some kind under the tree for me, and a cowboy.</p><p></p><p>And baby dolls for my sister, I suppose. I don't remember very much about her or what she did. I suppose that is part of why she feels as she does about me today, too.</p><p></p><p>The memories of all of us at my grandmother's are where I remember my sibs with fondness and fullness, as if they are real people. </p><p></p><p>That makes sense too, given what we have learned about our childhoods. So we were fortunate, to have had those times together.</p><p></p><p>She certainly did turn out to be a mean little poop when she grew up, my sister. Maybe that is what fuels what she is doing, now. Me too, of course. Those dinners I am always wishing for must be a compilation ~ a distillation of haunted desires for things that never were.</p><p></p><p>Remember that quote? The one about nostalgia?</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p><p></p><p>So I was thinking about what TJ Jakes said yesterday. Just because someone says you are an airplane doesn't make you an airplane.</p><p></p><p>It is what it really is, all this stuff with my family of origin. And nothing at all like what I might wish it could be ~ not for any of us.</p><p></p><p>It's hard to face that; really hard to believe we could not have changed all this. It's those darned Christmas memories. That is what I keep trying to duplicate. That anticipatory feeling, and all those beautiful faces around the table, with the Christmas lights in the background.</p><p></p><p>Here is a Christmas story. Daughter was having problems. I think Baklava grand may have already been born, but I am not sure. In any event, a Public Health nurse had come to the house to talk with all of us, or just with daughter, or whatever it was. And it was Christmastime, right? So, the tree was up. We had a cat then who loved to climb the tree and sit in there, peering out at everyone through the lights and decorations and so on. So, I'm sitting there talking with this nurse about what could be the matter or whatever it was...and I realize the little porcelain dolls are like, hanging upside down, and the lights are a mess with wires sticking out all over and there are needles all over the floor and the tree looks like the Christmas tree from H***. </p><p></p><p>Because of the cat. And with everything as chaotic as it must have been for whatever reason that a Public Health nurse would come to see us, I hadn't really looked at the tree until I was sitting there on the sofa next to the nurse and realized it looked like we'd hung the angels in effigy or something.</p><p></p><p><img src="/community/styles/default/xenforo/smilies/redface.png" class="smilie" loading="lazy" alt=":redface:" title="redface :redface:" data-shortname=":redface:" /></p><p></p><p><img src="/community/styles/default/xenforo/smilies/x3.png" class="smilie" loading="lazy" alt=":x3:" title="x3 :x3:" data-shortname=":x3:" /></p><p></p><p>But I always wondered what she must have thought, that Public Health nurse, to see a Christmas tree with the ornaments hanging upside down and everything looking so ugly.</p><p></p><p>Sometimes? All you can do is laugh.</p><p></p><p>Life just isn't perfect. </p><p></p><p>No matter how hard we try, the cat will get in there and mess up the tree, the daughter will have problems and then, the son, too. And somehow, we just pull everything together and there isn't another darn thing we can do about any of it.</p><p></p><p>No wonder I needed to have that cup of fresh coffee in my grandmother's china cup all by myself by the time Christmas was finally over!</p><p></p><p>For heaven's sake.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 665057, member: 17461"] Well, maybe that is where I will get to, too. Here is a secret: Right now? I am still hoping for a miraculous revelation and...dinner. Christmas dinner, this time. It was disturbing to me to post about Christmas. It seems that my mother did love me, after all. And that made me feel really badly about the way I post about her here. And badly for me, because what I post about here ~ those terrible things are also true. All I could conclude is that if there is an answer, I don't know what it is. I do know those memories weaken me now, in my adulthood. And I know I want to be whole, and with access to all of myself. So then I felt better, but I was very sad for a time, after remembering Christmas morning and how pretty everything was, and how the perfect toys would be there for each of us. They say there are two kinds of little girls, did you know that, Serenity and Copa and everyone reading along? One kind of little girl loves baby dolls and one, loves horses. I was the kind of little girl who loved horses. And there was always a horse of some kind under the tree for me, and a cowboy. And baby dolls for my sister, I suppose. I don't remember very much about her or what she did. I suppose that is part of why she feels as she does about me today, too. The memories of all of us at my grandmother's are where I remember my sibs with fondness and fullness, as if they are real people. That makes sense too, given what we have learned about our childhoods. So we were fortunate, to have had those times together. She certainly did turn out to be a mean little poop when she grew up, my sister. Maybe that is what fuels what she is doing, now. Me too, of course. Those dinners I am always wishing for must be a compilation ~ a distillation of haunted desires for things that never were. Remember that quote? The one about nostalgia? Cedar So I was thinking about what TJ Jakes said yesterday. Just because someone says you are an airplane doesn't make you an airplane. It is what it really is, all this stuff with my family of origin. And nothing at all like what I might wish it could be ~ not for any of us. It's hard to face that; really hard to believe we could not have changed all this. It's those darned Christmas memories. That is what I keep trying to duplicate. That anticipatory feeling, and all those beautiful faces around the table, with the Christmas lights in the background. Here is a Christmas story. Daughter was having problems. I think Baklava grand may have already been born, but I am not sure. In any event, a Public Health nurse had come to the house to talk with all of us, or just with daughter, or whatever it was. And it was Christmastime, right? So, the tree was up. We had a cat then who loved to climb the tree and sit in there, peering out at everyone through the lights and decorations and so on. So, I'm sitting there talking with this nurse about what could be the matter or whatever it was...and I realize the little porcelain dolls are like, hanging upside down, and the lights are a mess with wires sticking out all over and there are needles all over the floor and the tree looks like the Christmas tree from H***. Because of the cat. And with everything as chaotic as it must have been for whatever reason that a Public Health nurse would come to see us, I hadn't really looked at the tree until I was sitting there on the sofa next to the nurse and realized it looked like we'd hung the angels in effigy or something. :redface: :x3: But I always wondered what she must have thought, that Public Health nurse, to see a Christmas tree with the ornaments hanging upside down and everything looking so ugly. Sometimes? All you can do is laugh. Life just isn't perfect. No matter how hard we try, the cat will get in there and mess up the tree, the daughter will have problems and then, the son, too. And somehow, we just pull everything together and there isn't another darn thing we can do about any of it. No wonder I needed to have that cup of fresh coffee in my grandmother's china cup all by myself by the time Christmas was finally over! For heaven's sake. [/QUOTE]
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