Returning Sunday

I went today. I went back.
In the past five months I could count the number of times I've been there on a single hand. It hadn't even really registered until my mother pointed it out.
I just didn't want to be there.
No I know all that anger I had that I wanted to point somewhere I pointed up, literally. There wasn't really a reason for it. Not until I got comfortable with myself did I see that anger and resentment.
Today I sat there as a family and felt that I belonged in that room.
I was not longer the odd man out in a crowded room. The extra wheel sticking out like a sore thumb. Alone.

I don't feel that same anger, just a little timid shyness at coming back into familiar and normal.
It felt complete. And I got some hugs too. Heidi squeezed the life out of me she was so happy to see me there.

I have Cohen playing in my head - halleluja. Bit odd.
But then this is me were talking about here.

I've been kinda melancholy all weekend. Music seems to reflect my mood. Sense of leaving behind, goodbye - almost, but not quite, loss? Something it's hard to describe.

It was really nice to sit together again. Holding hands, holding each other. Holding kids. Lap hopping and the whole bit.

When I stepped out, there was my visitor. I can't remember the last time I felt that, smelt that. My Eternity. It's almost faded now. It was really strong earlier. Just a little on the back of my hand. Got the sense of saying farewell. I was excited and sad and happy and peaceful and so many things all at once.
It doesn't come often. Just often enough that I know I am not alone.

Perhaps one day I will understand, that day is not today I am thinking.
Today I wonder and try to accept.

On a different note. Even after all these years together, there are still so many things to learn about each other. Positive things. New buttons all the time, with more and more pleasant results.
Perhaps the time has finally come to finish those stories. The ones with random thoughts and sentences that need some piecing together. Now that I can there is more story to tell. Eyes are opened, just a little bit.
Now that I can write again, this seems to be the time.
It matters not if anyone reads them. I just need to tell them.


It is fun having my own manicurist. We spent time together her and I just talking this morning. I feel I have failed her greatly. At eleven she still does not value herself. She is reflecting back all that I've been living in myself. And it scares the $*^% out of me that I could be sending her out into the world that way.
I cannot let that cycle pass to another generation. Not on my watch. Not if I can help it, do something about it. I will not let my daughter look for validation from anyone else. I thought teaching her to be strong would be enough. She might be able to kick ass to take care of herself, but she doesn't see how valuable she is. How can I correct her own lack of self esteem? She needs to know she is beautiful and
special and important. All those things I didn't know at her age and that I am learning now at 34. I cannot do that to her. I MUST stop here. She is my princess of great value. If my words are not enough, what will be?