There are people around me and I wonder "How do they get through the day?" "How do they continue with their lives and are still a positive influence to those around them?" "How are they in healthy relationships, when the model they had growing up was so fucked up?!"
While back home this weekend on the farm, my youngest sister was telling me about a girl in her class (Jacinta is in 8th grade), whose mother and father divorced when she was there years old and her and her mom then moved in with her mom's boyfriend. That relationship went down the shitter and then they moved into her grandma's house for several years. During this time, the mother was in and out of the picture. Now, the mother and the daughter are living with the new boyfriend and his three kids from a previous relationship. Jacinta said that one day, the girl was called out of the classroom by the school guidance counselor and was told to bring all her stuff with her. When classes switched at the next hour, the whole class walked by the junior high office, to see the girls biological mother arguing with the biological father. The whole bunch of 8th graders saw this and saw the daughter, tearing up in the seat behind them. And yes, this was in a Catholic school. NO, we are not sheltered from the harsh realities of fucked up relationships. Not every kid who wears the blue skirt and white polo comes from a perfect religious home. Some of the kids there are sent in hopes that the bit of religion and discipline that Trinity honors will somehow change the negative cycle their family is cruising down.
I have a close girl fiend whose father recently passed away suddenly. This man was the humbled father of four beautiful daughters and my girlfriend, like myself, is the oldest of the bunch. I sit here and imagine, as I have much since her father passed away, how can she continue? How do you dig in your plow so deep and keep going, when your world is rocked like that? Her sisters are not drowning their sorrows nor dedicating facebook status everyday to the doom and gloom they recently were dealt by the hand of God. No, instead they have facebook profile pictures of their Dad with the memories that they'll remember and that he'd want them to remember: smiling and being goofy. Their family is the sort of family I have come from and hope to have, someday. They are strong. They are close and not to mention, gorgeous girls.
I look at the strength that Jacinta's classmate must have to accept that as her "ordinary". Not having a stable family home. Watching "Home Improvement" and not knowing the feeling of a true family dinner. Not knowing the feeling of going to Christmas concerts as a family, because her concept of "family" changes as the wind blows. For my girlfriend to keep living her life, but not forgetting the legacy that has been laid before her and her sisters by their father.
How can I look at my life and grumble and complain and bitch and whine? Grant it, ten minutes after I publish this post, I'll start bitching about something. God knows I will and he's ok with that (because, hell, he created me this way). However, for this brief moment in time, I am blessed. God, I am blessed.
Yes, I do have a horrible time getting to sleep at night. My mind does not shut off.
I have hairy feet. It's a hereditary thing, I think. I swear, Bergkamps used to climb trees way way way way back when, because my toes are incredibly long; "hobbit like", if you will.
I sweat. I sweat a lot. I can be freezing in bed with the fan and AC blasting, but yet- somehow- will be sweating like a whore when I wake up.
I would love to get a brow lift, because my brow bone is way too low, I think.
I have wide feet. I think it's because I have a beautifully wide ass.
But, damn, I am blessed because all those little annoyances were given to me, much for the same reasons God gave the crosses to the girls I've mentioned: because he does not give us a cross one ounce too heavy for our strength.
And, if you know me, you know that my leg strength is insane. Thank you, Landwehr hips.