You can't go wrong with stories that start out "once upon a time" ~ it's fairy tale magic.
... there was this wild & crazy gal who was misdirected in life. She happened to find this wild & crazy guy, also misdirected. While the two seemed like a misdirected match at first, things soon went awry. What started out as two in this story soon became three (on the way).
And then there were two.
13 years later, two are reunited with three.
Tradgic tale? Not really. Just my life.
What's the real story here? Today I had a phone conversation with my biological father, whom I speak to roughly once a year because his self righteous, demeaning ways drive me absolutely insane. Did he not notice the 13 years he was absent from my life? Does he not realize that it was because I wanted to find him that we were reunited?
Why do people feel the need to stomp all over someone in an unjustified attempt to right their own wrongs??
My decisions are just that: mine. I don't hold against him the decision making that kept us apart for so many years. Actually, I'm grateful for who I am today.
Open minded. Free. Strong. Accepting of people, mistakes included. In fact, mistakes expected. Who am I to judge. Furthermore, who is he?
Granted, 58 years of mistakes & learning does give him some credibility in this life. Yes, he has seen & done a LOT more than I. But, I'm still free to make my own mistakes. To create my own path. To be responsible for my own actions. I don't ask him for anything. Other than acceptance for who I am.
Tomorrow we are having lunch. He doesn't feel that his lecture is getting through to me over the phone. Ten years ago we "had lunch". It ended up him telling me what a worthless piece of crap I had grown into; that I should give my (yet unborn) baby up for adoption because, inevitably, she would grow up to be just like me.
Rewind ten years.
Me = 18 years old.
"A" student all through high school.
Graduated in the top 10% of my class.
National Honor Society.
Ten years of 4-H.
Multiple state & national awards in uncountable events & competitions.
Competed at State Track meets & Cross Country runs.
Working at a bank.
Living on my own & paying my own bills.
Open minded. Trusting. Accepting. Hard working. ALIVE.
Maybe I just don't get it, but where's the danger in my child being remotely like me? Because I work for what I want? Because I accept my decisions as mine & face life, head on??
He once referred to me as a mushroom that sprung from a pile of shit (referring to my mother) and that he was the sunshine (referring to himself) that pulled me forth from that said pile of shit. Can you only imagine??
Wish me luck. Chip off the old block has lunch with the old block.
**heavy hearted sigh**