Posted in Thinking out loud

Just ramblings…

“Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.”
― Mary Oliver

My father was a futurist, when he was a child, he predicted they would
land on the moon, people just laughed at him back then.

I was a terrible disappointment to my father, I was an underachiever of the highest order.
Somehow it never bothered me a bit, but it bothered him a lot.
He would spend hours lecturing me on the benefits of academic greatness,
and after a few toots it got even more hectic.
I wanted to please him but nothing in me would allow me to be something I was not.
Perhaps there was a force greater than myself at play.
I did have some things in common with my dad, we both loved sci-fi and cartoons,
and as the only one in the family it gave us a common bond.

I think he wanted me to have some kind of achievement
so that he could add me to his brag album, like a trophy to be gloat on.
My struggle always was to be accepted by him.
I couldn’t wait to leave home and no longer be under his thumb.
Sadly the world was not very kind to me and basically, I fell on my face. (for a while)
I do sometimes wonder if I had done what he asked I would be at the very least a university graduate, if that is anything to write home about?

Having said all this I do find myself having great affection for my dear old dad, it’s been a kind of miracle in the making. I was compelled at one stage to forgive him for not believing in me and not loving me the way I needed to be loved. You know how that goes, it’s a very long and hard process, and sometimes an extremely painful one… it’s a giving up bit by bit of who I wanted him to be and learning to accept the life I have been given.
Somehow within me I know that he did the best he could with what little he knew at the time.
He had his own mountain of baggage!

Perhaps he even had a hand in molding me into the person that I am today, in a very strange kind of alternative way, learning through contrasts.
When I was a child, he made me keep secrets and I never understood why, but I became a believer in truth, and in being real. To this day I am not very good at keeping secrets.
Because of him I question everything, I’m a curious human being. I tell people I love them as much as I possibly can, something he was unable to do…

A few days before he died, he smiled at me with such great affection, it melted away much of the animosity in a single instant. It was like a window into another world where love covers all sins, a supernatural feeling, or maybe it was just because he was high on Morphine.
Perhaps even a moment of enlightenment.
In that moment he seemed to have pride in his rebel daughter, and I’m so grateful for that gift.
It gave me a glimpse of the hope that does not disappoint us!

That was my beginning into the knowing, the journey into becoming, opening the box of darkness and seeing it as a gift.

(I wasn’t going to post this, but part of my therapy is saying things out-loud
and talking through the hard stuff…

If you got this far, thank you for reading!)

©AllysoAlly2021

Author:

I am an unknown introvert who desires to touch the world with a little bit of magic...

7 thoughts on “Just ramblings…

  1. Wonderful writing, dear Ally. I think many people have quite complicated relationships with their parents. My dad also had a mountain of baggage which my sister and I only really came to realise after his death and we started to piece together the patchwork of our lives growing up. I so often wish i could have him back for just a day to tell him that I now understand some of what was continually eating at him and that I really appreciate the good times we had. Your post brought tears to my eyes. *hugs*

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, Deb. I agree that we have complicated relationships with our parents. A psychologist told me once that no one comes out of childhood unscathed, it helped knowing that. I have a belief that we planned our lives before we were born and my dad was helping me be a better person. It’s like if we only have good things happen to us how would we turnout? I really appreciate your input. xxx

      Liked by 1 person

  2. This had to be hard to write, Ally. You are brave to do so. When we realize that our parents are mere mortals, like us, it’s enlightening and sometimes surprising. Like you, for me, with my mother, it was a process. The line of yours “Somehow within me I know that he did the best he could with what little he knew at the time.” Sums it up very well. Sending love and light your way! ❤

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Penny, your comment means a lot to me…
      I have become braver with time.
      Brene Brown’s writings have helped a lot…“Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage. Truth and courage aren’t always comfortable, but they’re never weakness.”
      Sending love and light back xxx

      Liked by 1 person

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