I received an email yesterday stating that the house that my parents built in Winchester, Massachusetts in 1950 is under contract to a builder who will doze the site and build a McMansion. Zip codes matter 01890; the structure is not worth the selling price. Louise and Ed raised six children in the 60s in that house, meaning they had six teenagers in the 70s. One should forgive all mistakes and hurts based on that alone! Imagine that, damn.
My mother, sister and sometimes the older brother have occupied the house, as it and they declined with age. One to dementia and one to stroke, one to the disease of co-dependency. It has been a tragic process to witness. Meanwhile, a younger sibling has metal illness that led to homelessness and loss of all that a once beautiful middle class, educated American girl could lose. I want to write that she loved her children. Her babies are in their 20’s and gratefully have an amazing father and step-mother. It is for men like him that today is especially important to celebrate. It is Father’s Day. My Dad, has been deceased over 7 years. I miss him, sense him often and smile. I grieved deeply, deeply …. and wept ‘til I could weep no more. I am blessed with the metaphysical memory of his blue eyes lighting up whenever he saw me.
My baby does not have his father in his life, by choice. Father’s Day is another Sunday. I wish my son, who is a wonderful young man, had been given the role model of a father that he could be proud of. Fortunately, the universe provides more than one father and mother for many who need additional support until we can love and nurture ourselves. I do not know if his father grieves the mistakes of his two marriages and losing the love of his children through his self-centered inability to meet adult responsibilities. Some people are just ill equipped.
I too have limped along with a handicap that may or may not have been preventable. It was not my fault and I have needed decades of healing to recover. The final chapter is selling the house. Anticipation of bulldozing the material manifestation of the trauma, scars and neurological impacts feels fantastic. I did not see it coming and I rejoice! That’s the news, rejoice!
Life is a slow process, that happens too fast.