tears during disney

Where to begin. So many feelings bubbling up as I sort through relationships...

*****

My mom has a 'keepsake box' with my name, sprawled in sharpie marker, on the side. Through the clear walls you can see a red Dolly Parton dress the size of a babydoll, official documents stamped with tiny black feet, crayon lines forming the alphabet, stuffed animals, a taped envelope of 'the first hair cut,' and various other mementos of which I have no recollection as to their origin. 

Other than the items contained in that box, all other memorabilia from my childhood has passed on to me (that I know of). I also have quite the collection: pictures from early childhood, awards and ribbons from days spent at the fair, clothes that haven't fit in many years, and hobbies that I have long since cast aside.

As I clean them out, I am reminded of times past - both good and bad. 

One good thing is that I was able to find pictures of friends. I did not have many close peers growing up and we weren't a particularly social family (being homeschooled exemplified this fact). Unfortunately, at some point I latched on to this idea that I had no friends (...not far from the truth, but not true). Though I have always wanted friends and it bothers me that I did not interact with peers more as a child. To compensate for 'not having friends,' I have since tried to capitalize on every social interaction I ever had to make it seem like the situation was happier and better than it was. I said this was a good thing and here's why: Since finding those pictures, for whatever reason, I have been able to accept my interactions with peers as it realistically was: one or two dear friends that made all the difference for me! It has been refreshing to look back over my childhood and recall happy memories of friends, without feeling the need to justify or change. It is what it is and it's over now. But those people meant everything to me.

I smashbooked my favorites of these pictures and placed the book on my shelf. I am more content with that area of my life than I ever have been. No regrets, just a few fun memories!

One bad thing is that I am reminded of the guilt I still carry around from leaving my two younger siblings behind when I moved away after highschool. Our mother was not around very much and I generally took care of my younger siblings. When it came time for me to move out, I knew it was what I wanted and needed to do. But it was five hours away from them. I felt guilty for leaving them. People hoped that my absence would cause our mother to 'step up' and fulfil her parental role. But that is not what happened. Rather the older of the two took over my role as caretaker. As I go through pictures from our childhood, I realize how much I miss them and how much I still feel bad for leaving them behind. And when I say I miss them, I do not mean that I have not seen or spoken to them recently. But rather I miss the little people that I left. Being five, then twelve, hours away from them, I missed the transition from child to young adult. When I returned the oldest was grown, and the youngest was well on their way. I love these two dearly and I see them as often as I can. But my heart longs to go back to those children and tell them I love them and I am sorry. Did they ever understand that I had to go?

I have dreamed about their younger versions for several nights now.

*****

(For the sake of my own anonymity as well as their's, all names are pseudonyms.)

My grandmother and I were sitting on her porch when some friends drop by for a surprise visit. We were uncertain as to the identity of one of the guests.

"Why that's BettyAnn!" my grandmother suddenly exclaims in great astonishment, hopefully still out of earshot of the woman.

"...Whose BettyAnn?" I ask.

"That's James' first wife!" she explains.

...But who's James?!? I think.

BettyAnn stays for a short while with her friends and then they leave.

I ask my grandmother for a piece of paper. I then ask her to help me draw a family tree. My mother and the lady I sit with are no longer 'on speaking terms.' Neither was my grandmother and her mother. My mother never speaks of her father (James!) nor of the rest of her family really.

I left there with a family tree and pictures as far back as my great-great-great-great-grandfather.

*****

My older brother and his wife are struggling with their marriage again. They have two children under the age of five.

My parents have been divorced for two years now, and separated for three.

Myself, my brother, and three of my cousins all found their 'soulmates' and married them. We are the first generation to not be divorced.

My father and younger brother are concerned that my husband and I are having marital problems. Not because of any particular or justified reason, but because it's the only life they know. My 'adopted mother' assures me this is a symptom of divorce. Since her and her husband split, she too has been concerned about the marriage of her oldest; but for no particular reason.

Occasionally I too find myself gravely concerned that Hubby and I might divorce. But once again, for no particular reason. We are very happily married. But I worry about the days to come. Sure we are happy now, but life is easy - what about when we have kids? I ponder such unreasonable ponders from time to time.

*****

In times past, I rarely cried in movies: adult or kid films. Yet recently, I feel an uncontrolled tear slide down my face when the characters quarrel amongst each other. When a character cannot live up to another's expectations. When emotions, situations, or time separates the characters.

I cried during a sitcom when two of the characters 'broke-up.' It wasn't even a sad moment and the characters didn't 'belong together.'

But I was sad.

I'm beginning to feel like 'adopted mom' who LITERALLY cried in the original Pooh Bear. At the rate I'm going, that'll be me, but likely for different reasons.

I'm starting to not enjoy movies and stories because I do not find enough solace in the last ten minutes of a happy ending to negate the ninety minutes prior that still resonates sadness.

*****

I should probably be seeing a therapist.