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It was a wonderful holiday with much needed, desperately needed time with my family. I did something unheard of... I left my work at home. Ok, I did bring my computer to whip out a newsletter that is due first thing tomorrow morning. But other than that, I didn't work. I finished reading a book, started re-reading another. The outlaws, yes they were here for part of the time, but it was okay. For the first time in more than six years, I took a nap on the beach. No worries about kids being swept away with the change of tide, gramma had it all under control. Slowly, ever so slowly, I felt the tension peel away and my eyelids grew heavy. When I woke, most of the other boats had left for the day and took their kids dogs and music with them. This was all I could see... the ICW beside me and the Atlantic in the distance.


 And my view minutes later on the way back from the island.




THIS is why I call where I live home. I'm in the middle of all God's glory. Just a few hours' drive one way and I'm in the mountains on top of the world or the other way I'm at the coast overlooking the edge of the world. It just doesn't get much better than this.

We're back home now, back to school and work in the morning.  Today though, I have a strange sense of peace that I don't often feel. 

I shed a lot of tears this weekend, probably an unnecessary amount of tears for someone who didn't know or barely knew me... though I knew him very well.  I thank you, Bas, for making such a huge impression on this whole community and not just in this little corner of my world. 

In a strange way, I think those tears weren't just for him.  Maybe they were tears that never fell after my mom died.  We had a horrid relationship, as she did with everyone around her.  Many terrible things were said both ways between both of us.  Words that make me shudder as I hear my voice saying them, words that bring tears to my eyes as I hear her saying them to me.  I can't blame her for my mouth, though I can say she trained me well :-(

She hung on for about 10 years, many longer than they said she would.  It wasn't a life that was cherished until the last moment. Not on her part or anyone else's for that matter.  I never cried for her.  I did cry for my dad as he faced the inevitability of dealing with the next chapter of his life.  I cried horribly as I found myself finally growing close to my father and getting to know him, just to have that rug ripped out from under me weeks later as the claws of his next wife sunk in.  I was again alone in the world.

So many years of therapy later, I've come to accept that she did the best she could.  She was horribly abused as a child, was mentally ill, and genuinely knew no better.  My dad has issues too and also did the best he could.  Acceptance of it all allows me to forgive and move on.

Once my tears started coming, my life from about 13 until I met the man that would become my husband started flashing by.  All the hurt, the loneliness, the mistakes (oh, the horrible mistakes), the emptiness, all of it hit me like a bomb.  Tears not just for the loss of a parent but for the one I never really had.  I've cried before, yes an awful lot.  But I'm not sure I've cried as much, as hard, or as completely as I did this weekend.  For once, I think I got it all out.  Stuff I didn't know needed to get out... there it went.

Sitting in the sand, listening to the gentle waves, it just brought it all back together.  I'm not really sure where this story is going or what it really means.  I just know I'm at peace.

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Posted by: Tukiyooo Sandy toes and a weepy nose Updated at : 6:41 PM
Sunday, July 7, 2013

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