I’ve been getting migraines and backaches lately. I went to an acupuncturist who felt my pulse and declared that I had a lot of anger….
I have been working on it, though. For many years. And yet, here I am. Angry as hell and wondering what to do about it.
I do think I am getting better. My good days are much better than they used to be but, surprisingly, even though my bad days are less frequent, they are almost as intense as before, sometimes more so.
Maybe it’s because the estrangement has been going on for so very long. Maybe it’s because the grandkids are now adolescent and pre-adolescent and it’s official – I’ve missed their childhoods. Or maybe it’s the moral indignation I feel as a result of the staggering cruelty of having been forced to give up a normal relationship and contact with my grandchildren. I only know that I still wake up in the middle of the night, aching in my body and in my heart.
Due to the miracles of technology, I am now in touch with the two oldest grandchildren, who are 12 and 14 years old. They are delightful boys, intelligent and seemingly very kind. We text and once in awhile, we do FaceTime. I am glad about it, but I’m still not allowed to visit them nor are they allowed to visit me.
I admit to a certain ambivalence about this new turn of events. Why am I not I happier about it? I love them, love seeing their faces and hearing their voices, yet, I feel bereft and depressed after communicating with them. I can’t decide if it’s making things better or worse for me.
Although I work everyday on changing my thinking, staying in the present and searching for peace in my life, I can’t help but wonder why the wounds haven’t healed and why I’m still so hurt and angry.
There is no perfect outcome here. The relationship I once had with my son is forever altered and this new relationship with my grandchildren is tenuous. I will never be enfolded into my son’s family, at least not in the way I would like. I have to get it through my head that the dream of being a part of my grandkid’s childhoods is over.
Time to get real. I must choose courage. I must stop thinking about them and release myself from all this angst. It’s time I created a new dream – one that doesn’t include them.
I know one thing to be true: This stuff ain’t for sissies.