Prayers &; Hope &; What the hell do you do….

I got a phone call from my step-dad today. He was calling for a couple of reasons. One was to update me on his condition. He’s fighting cancer and it’s not looking good. It’s in his lung and now in the bone in his arm. I’m scared to death that I’m gonna lose the only guy that’s ever stuck around for more than a couple of years. So if you have an extra prayer in you or some positive energy or good karma or whatever you can send up, it would really mean a lot. Right now I’m seeing a trip out to Hawaii to see him before I can’t anymore on the horizon.

I haven’t been out there in five years. Partly because my mother and I don’t talk anymore. I haven’t talked to my mother in almost a year and a half. And it’s impossible to explain to anybody that hasn’t been in my life in close quarters what happened or how my mother and I got to this place. But I guess the easiest way to put it is that I just can’t have her hurting me the way that she has anymore.

But trying to explain that she does things that most people can’t understand is hard. The general consensus is “that’s your MOM”, but I argue that the ability to pop out a kid does not immediately make one a better person. You are who you are whether you poop out a kid or not. And sometimes you can rise up to the challenges of raising people, sometimes not. And sometimes you’re just really messed up like my mother and need some help.

The point of all this rattling on is that my mother , anything to do with my mother right now, causes me a lot of stress and anxiety. And I don’t know what to do. I keep waiting for her to reach out and get the help she needs, but according to my step-dad she’s doing even worse than she was last year. She’s left him and gone “home” to the state she grew up in. But you can’t go home. Nothing is the same anymore. And she’s losing friends. I guess she needs some prayers too come to think of it.

I know that I don’t usually reveal so much in my blogging but like I said, anything to do with my mother instigates anxiety right now. So I’m writing it out and hoping for prayers for my step-dad and inspiration or maybe just the ability to breathe when it comes to my mother.

After careful consideration and many sleepless nights, here’s what I’ve decided: There’s no such thing as a grown-up. We move out, we move away from our families. But the basic insecurities, the fears and all the old wounds just grow up with us. Just when you think life has forced you to truly become an adult, your mother says something like that. We get bigger, taller, older. But, for the most part, we’re still a bunch of kids, running around the playground, trying desperately to fit in.

Meredith, Grey’s Anatomy

Have you any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?

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