FIGURING IT OUT FRIDAY

Figuring it out Friday, yep because I missed Sunday shout out, Tuesday talk about ( I'd take Annie Fits two cent Tuesday, however, mine is never the penny version, its always the dollar version), Wednesday Wisdom and Thursday Thoughts... so here we are Figuring it out Friday.

As for many of us, I am sure we can all relate to this picture, giving to our children a piece of ourselves to make them whole.

This is the tricky part, because we are wounded humans with pieces already missing and here we are trying to give those parts to our children.

See' my picture wouldn't look so clean as the woman's in the photo, mine would have holes all over it, I may not have even realized I was missing that pc until I had to give it to my child and then I'd be FUCK, I don't know how to fill that, I don't have that to give you, mine is already missing. Mine is missing because my parents were missing it so they couldn't give it to me either.

One can not give what they do not have .... many times we do not realize what we are missing until it is standing in front of us yelling so loud we feel like the whole universe can hear it. The lack of, feels like it echo's loudly and into the ears of those around us. Pounding and standing out like a throbbing sore thumb. Now not only do we feel lack, we believe that all around can see and hear the lack. And that is when the all mighty Shame walks into our cells. Then the wounds become somewhat more apparent. Now this is the part that I find interesting about my figuring it out Friday.

I am not saying this is fact....it's not facts Friday, it is figuring it out Friday.

There have been many many times in my life where I have felt inadequate, unloved, unworthy... not smart enough, not pretty enough, not good enough..all the bits.. and I am not going to lie I blamed much of that on my parents while growing up and if I am being totally honest my mom, Sharon Tardif got the mass majority of the blame.

Why her?

That's a great question and one I wish I had answers for. I don't know all the whys and some of them are so distorted by time that I do not believe they would even hold up in my adult brain compared to my child brain. when my parents parted ways, I ended up living with my dad, so the dynamics of my mom and I started young. She will tell you that I would sit and put my back to the door and glare at her while I waited for my dad to come home from work. Or how she could not comfort me and she would have to phone my dad to come home from work i am sure because she was at her wits end. Lets face it I have always been pretty vocal. He would come home lay me on his chest and I'd be out like a light. where he would give her a look of for Christ sakes Sharon. I can 100 percent see the expression on my dads face looking at her. lol I see it when I do things and he gives me the look of for Christ sakes Lorri.

now those stories use to make me sad, they use to make me feel bad because I could hear the hurt and I thought it was my fault. I see now she wasn't telling me those stories to make me feel bad, she was telling those stories because those are the ones that stuck with her the most and most likely the ones that caused her a deep pain.

yes there are a lot of dynamics and circumstances about me being born and I am sure that is where some of the blame comes. Not intentionally, energetically. Maybe because I was more like my dad ....(lol, I am very much like my mom in many aspects )that I blamed my mom for my lack. my lack of feeling loved, my lack of being good enough, my lack of feeling pretty or smart. For whatever reason my mom was who I blamed for all my shortcomings. she was short tempered, she was out spoken, loud, aggressive and a fucking spitfire. My mother could be hell on wheels if circumstances were right.

Now I know how this sounds, it sounds like she was an asshole... hey.. she was at times and guess what... so am I. She was the one at home with three girls, she was the one also going to work, she was the one working on a marriage, she was the one trying to find herself and figure out her own behaviours, she was a young mother walking upstream thigh deep in mud, pulling all the crap from the past with her while trying to get her kids to solid ground. like the photo, giving to her children pc of herself, then realizing she was missing pc that she had no idea how to give us.

That is the part about this Friday that I think is great about figuring out. It was easy for me to blame my mom for all my pain, it was easy for me to think she could have done better, been better. It was easy to be she is the parent I was the child it was her responsibility to help me, heal me, love me and whatever other thing that went through my mind.

Now imagine, you have given every ounce of love, care and emotion you are capable of giving to your child, one that you love whole heartedly only to find out it wasn't good enough, you were not enough. That is when I realized her stories weren't to make me feel bad, they were her wound stabbing her deeper in the chest, she wasn't good enough and I was reminding her of that. It wasn't me per say, it was a wound she already was carrying, something she had struggles with for however long she had and I was the gift to bring it to surface. I am sure it showed up many times before that, I don't want to make it like I am some sort of power source that shined some light on the subject. Though this is the dynamic of some of our relationship. Me shining light on her wounds, her shining light on mine, me blaming her for mine and her most likely blaming her for mine as well. lol I do not know that is 100 percent true, though I know that my mom has said sorry more times than someone ought to and can only imagine that she carries some of it. Though they both leave a bit of a different taste in ones mouth, mine unloved, angry, sad, resentful....hers, unloved, angry sad and shameful.

Not much healing can happen when someone is busy pointing a finger at some else for the hurt they carry.

Fast forward years. Now I know that I have loved my children to the best of my ability, just like my parents did with me. I also know that my children have wounds that I have created in their worlds, not me alone, however they are there none the less. Would I be ok if my kids blamed me for their lack of, all the lack of, smarts, love, good enough, worthy and such.

The answer is No. Though that doesn't stop them from doing it, especially when they are younger then travelling through the stages until we become adults.

Here is the gift in all of this, yes we pass down generational wounds, unhealed parts of ourselves and that is where the focus seems to stay for most and that I find extremely unfortunate. It is also in that space of generational pass downs that we gain knowledge, that we are capable of surpassing our parents in growth. Do not be so naive to think that you have walked this path alone. My mother ( and father) paved a path for me that led to the destination of better than.... than her parents led her. I will walk that path farther than my parents, with any luck and hard work, to bring my children farther along than I will get..

Parenting isn't easy, growing up isn't easy, moving through life with wounds that we have no idea how to address or fill isn't easy. My mom kept so many things hidden, for no other reason than self preservation and believing she was shielding us from the cruelties of the world she hoped we would never see. Now I am very lucky, much more so than some. My mom wanted to grow and evolve and figure out her demons. If not for that I may never have had the opportunity to understand some of her behaviours and I would still be walking around blaming my mom for feeling like she didn't love me. How crazy it that. She loved us so much she stuffed all of the hurt, pain and ugliness she carried with her farther and farther down hoping that she was doing everything different and better than those before her. AND SHE DID.. My mom protected me in ways that I didn't understand, not till I was older. Oh she was full of p and v much like me thought I believe I might be a bit more of a spit fire than her. though isn't that the gift in it all, i am stronger, wiser, more knowledgeable because of the parents I had.

I know we tend to focus on the wound , figuring it out Friday isn't about that. Its about the gifts that we received, the acts of love and care that we over looked while busy growing up, its about the sacrifices that were made without one ever knowing that they were made because they were busy protecting you and giving you more than they had, its about the exhaustion, the sleepless nights, the pain and suffering they endured all while doing there complete best to give you a better life. It is about feeling the hurt and pain from your child, the crushing ache when you realized that no matter how hard you tried they are still hurting and some of that is because of you.

Hey it doesn't always look the way we think it ought to or how we believe it should and unfortunately we do not realize so much of how much they gave, cared or did until we are there ourselves.

If I took my emotions out of it, wait that's not true, even with my emotions in it my mom, aka Sharon Tardif is pretty fucking amazing. I wish I could have seen it way sooner than I did ( it un fortunately took me well into my late 30's to 40's) wish I would have been able to tell her more often if I wasn't so busy being caught up in my own wounds. I wish that conversations about our pain in ourselves was spoken about more freely, how much easier would it be to heal if we were not busy trying to protect people from our worst parts. Worst Parts.... those ones, they are the ones that allow you to go deeper, feel more, push you forward and to give you the ability to examine yourself, your worst parts ( or so we say they are) they allow you to become your best self. My mom, she is not perfect, neither am I. without her I would not be me and you know me isn't so bad.