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Family of Origin
Walking down Memory Lane
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<blockquote data-quote="Copabanana" data-source="post: 669569" data-attributes="member: 18958"><p>How is it that Viktor Frankl said it? I will say it in the way I remember. To respond to or answer the questions that life throws at you with grace and with honor. That is living well.</p><p></p><p>To recognize that life was not given to us to be "happy" but to serve G-d. To learn.</p><p></p><p>Yes.</p><p>Cedar, what in the world does it have to do with want? Remember Hiraeth. That impossible yearning in the human heart for who knows what? That will never return, or never was.</p><p></p><p>That wanting is for us to fill, not our children, or our relationships with them.</p><p></p><p>My sister has that easy being with her children. What can I do? What does it mean?</p><p></p><p>Nothing important. Hiraeth.</p><p>Good.</p><p></p><p>This was a sad post, even for New Leaf. She is missing her 2.</p><p></p><p>I am thinking now of my father's family: There were 7 children.</p><p>4 boys, 3 girls. Jane, Agnes, Dorothy, Andrew, Thomas, Robert and William. All full Celt. Some born in Scotland. All drank. All drank to excess. My father had other vices. None were great successes.</p><p></p><p>The thing is when I was growing up it was seen as a normal thing. They had normal life. There was no grief that I remember. There was no shame. It was all normal.</p><p></p><p>Kids went off and lived their lives. That had tragedy and every other human element. It was the way it was.</p><p></p><p>On my maternal side, parents and extended family were left in other countries, in some cases they were killed in the Camps. Never to be spoken of again. New stories were begun in the New World. There was not the grief that I am feeling. At least it was never shown in a way that I saw it. I never heard my mother speak of it.</p><p></p><p>I am now thinking it is all Dr. Spock's fault. All of it. That our kids cause us grief and that we are wired as to feel it so deeply and to think and feel about ourselves as responsible, and broken...because we cannot tell happy stories about 100 percent of our children. Dr. Spock's fault. My mother's copy had dog-eared pages.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Copabanana, post: 669569, member: 18958"] How is it that Viktor Frankl said it? I will say it in the way I remember. To respond to or answer the questions that life throws at you with grace and with honor. That is living well. To recognize that life was not given to us to be "happy" but to serve G-d. To learn. Yes. Cedar, what in the world does it have to do with want? Remember Hiraeth. That impossible yearning in the human heart for who knows what? That will never return, or never was. That wanting is for us to fill, not our children, or our relationships with them. My sister has that easy being with her children. What can I do? What does it mean? Nothing important. Hiraeth. Good. This was a sad post, even for New Leaf. She is missing her 2. I am thinking now of my father's family: There were 7 children. 4 boys, 3 girls. Jane, Agnes, Dorothy, Andrew, Thomas, Robert and William. All full Celt. Some born in Scotland. All drank. All drank to excess. My father had other vices. None were great successes. The thing is when I was growing up it was seen as a normal thing. They had normal life. There was no grief that I remember. There was no shame. It was all normal. Kids went off and lived their lives. That had tragedy and every other human element. It was the way it was. On my maternal side, parents and extended family were left in other countries, in some cases they were killed in the Camps. Never to be spoken of again. New stories were begun in the New World. There was not the grief that I am feeling. At least it was never shown in a way that I saw it. I never heard my mother speak of it. I am now thinking it is all Dr. Spock's fault. All of it. That our kids cause us grief and that we are wired as to feel it so deeply and to think and feel about ourselves as responsible, and broken...because we cannot tell happy stories about 100 percent of our children. Dr. Spock's fault. My mother's copy had dog-eared pages. [/QUOTE]
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