Divine Intervention

In my life, I've come the conclusion that sometimes bad things happen to good people; what can go wrong, will go wrong and the little guy will always get shoved around by the big guy. I've also learned that sometimes things just work out, for no good reason. It's hard for me to understand what creates these situations but I'd like to think there are reasons for them, even if we don't always understand what those reasons are. It can't really be these things are events of our own creation, can it? 


When things that maybe shouldn't go so well, do in fact go really, really well and I know it just chance or luck, I often think about my dad. It took me awhile this time but last night, I had the feeling I get sometimes when it feels like he's close and I wonder if he's sending energy my way, helping me when I need it the most. Dad always told me 'Everything works out in the end' and it's funny but it does. 


The last two weeks have been incredibly stressful; coming to the realization that we needed to move and fast, knowing our credit is so jacked there was no way we could get into a place without a HUGE deposit, then coming to the conclusion that our only option was to ask our property management not to evict us, 'ignore' the back-rent we owe them and out of the goodness of their hearts, let us move into a smaller, more affordable place. And after waiting almost a week to hear back, there's really no reason why they said 'Sure. Just let us do a walk-through to make sure you haven't trashed the first place." No really, she said that.


I was so elated to hear that we won't be essentially homeless that I didn't even really think about the motivation they have for keeping us around. Yes, they make money off us every month, theoretically, but I will admit, I haven't been the best at maintaining a cordial Landlord-Tenant relationship. See, I have trouble with confrontation when I know I'm in the wrong. I know it sounds ridiculous but I'd rather be called out for my bullshit by someone else; who wants to call "bullshit" on themselves? 


So when money got tight and we couldn't pay rent on time or at all, I found it incredibly difficult to call property management to explain. They don't really care why rent's late, they just want to know when it's gonna get paid. Which makes their willingness to work with us that much more miraculous to me. I didn't really think about it until last night, after Jay & I had finished packing our room & the office. Dad. I know it sounds crazy but my dad has been on my mind for weeks; there's nothing "special" about this time of year, in relation to my dad, and I couldn't really think of why he'd been occupying my thoughts so much.


I like to think that these moments are when his energy is strongest around me; this is his way of saying, 'Yes, I'm still here.". Usually when I think something that's happened has been 'touched' by his energy, I know right away. I find $20 in a pair of jeans that haven't been worn in forever when we're on the verge of serfdom & I say a little 'Thank you, Dad' and I truly feel like it's him. This time, I didn't relate my recent thoughts of him to the fact that something I could consider miraculous had just happened for a while.


Sitting here, last night, surrounded by boxes, it just kind of hit me in the face -- Everything works out in the end. I started to cry. It may seem silly or straight-up insane but I know my dad had a helping hand in this. 


My actions certainly don't deserve such a incredibly fortunate outcome and while I have to believe that yes, we are ultimately in control of the events of our lives, sometimes things happen that we simply can't explain. Be it luck or chance or 'divine intervention', sometimes life just surprises you.

Thank you, Dad. Thank you so much ♥

Family Ties

Families are crazy, crazy things. A group of individuals who share so much yet can be so very, very different. Brought together by chance or choice, bound together with love, respect and trust. I've always believed family is a thing to be cherished, nurtured; I've tried hard to help the people around me mend fences broken by time, distance or grudges held too long. The problem is: I'm being incredibly hypocritical. I have fences that were ripped apart when my dad died, the bridge between me & my mom is crumbling, and I have no real desire to fix any of it.

Why should I? I didn't create these situations. I won't say I'm a victim because I've allowed the rifts & divides grow; I've held on to the past and used the hurt to feed my anger & animosity. Things did not go the way I expected after my dad died and it added to the trauma of losing him so unexpectedly. Because he was living with and caring for my grandma, when he died, everything suddenly became hers; his laptop, his car, all his furniture, pretty much everything. His closet was emptied out, along with his dresser and jewelry box, when I came to pack up his things. I was left with a few boxes of paperwork, an empty wallet and a half-pack of Marlboros. When I found the title to his car in one of the boxes, I figured it was all I needed to convince my dad's family (see how I disassociate right there?) that I deserved the Jeep; they would "see the light" and fall all over themselves to make it right with me. We'd be a family again; we'd grow closer and I'd learn more of my father through them.

Instead, I was berated; called a liar, a whore; my dad was a thief and had no right to anything. I was stunned. Hurt doesn't begin to explain how I felt. I had just buried my father, my rock, and now I was under attack from the every people who I thought would be supporting me. It was a long, epic battle but I finally got my dad's Jeep, a year and a half later. I kept in touch with my uncle and his two boys but cut myself off from my aunt and her kids. I never spoke to my grandma again and she died in October 2006, shortly after I got my Jeep back. I was asked not to attend her funeral, for fear I'd "start trouble". The hurt just keeps going...

While I feel a little twinge of guilt about my decision not to speak with her, I know the chances are slim that it would have fixed anything. She was not a forgiving person and her alcohol abuse made her anything but nice. Most of my memories of her include some kind of trauma; I realized at a very early age, she wasn't like the grandmas you saw in the movies. The feelings of guilt came when my uncle passed and I realized the opportunity I'd missed to get to know him and through him, my dad. In the last few years, I've reconnected with his sons, Johnny and Matt. Matt just had a baby boy, Noah, on the 6th; he's started talking with our aunt again and I'm left wondering what to do...Should I do like I've told others, step up and make the first move or do I just leave it where it is? Honestly, I think I could live the rest of my life without doing anything about it; I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything and I'm not sure I want them to be a part of my life.

I feel like I have nothing in common with these people, except the blood we share; they have never shown any interest in me or my life, ever. My aunt's one attempt was a teen study bible. I was 13 and 'The Craft'  was really big so naturally, my best friend and I liked to say we were witches. It was purely bullshit but it utterly blew my aunt's mind and she felt compelled to "save" my soul. I can't imagine her feeling any different when, fourteen years later, I have two kids out of wedlock and choose to live with their father as an unmarried couple, which is, of course, a sin. I feel like my stance on religion and choice of lifestyle are enough to put the kabash on any thoughts of reconciliation; adding in the traumas dealt to me after my dad's death just gives me more reason to write these people off.

Am I just being stubborn? Should I feel compelled by our shared biology to 'right the wrong'? Or do I have the right to choose who I call "family"? Do I owe it to my kids to reconnect, so they can know where they come from? What would I say to my dad about this whole situation? Can I really justify my actions (or inaction)? Will this teach the boys that family can be 'thrown away'? Years have gone by and I know I've grown and changed in immense ways but the wound that is my dad's death is one I'm still healing from.

I just don't know if it's worth the trouble it may cause.