Continued from Silver Linings
“There is a kind of magicness about going far away and then coming back all changed.” ~ Kate Douglas Wiggin
Our focus became our family. We loved to take the girls camping and did so many times throughout the summer. They were good times. When we were away from the world, from work and responsibilities, we were the epitome of a happy family. On our camping weekends, we were about hikes and reading; about relaxing and campfires. It was a time before electronics and so we enjoyed what nature and the campground had to offer. I loved those weekends. They were what I wanted my daily life to be like.
Hubby and I talked a lot. We had learned so much about communicating with each other in counseling and much more about ourselves. When we were being introspective and taking personal responsibility, it was easy to be together. We were developing bigger dreams for the future of our business as it was growing in success year by year. The ‘hard’ times were ending and we could clearly see the light at the end of the tunnel. We were preparing to enjoy the successes of our years of dedication. We traveled a bit for work that year and got to know a few colleagues across the country who were similarly dedicated to growing their businesses. We enjoyed our time together and made tentative plans to create more travel opportunities together.
Trust remained difficult for me. I stopped several times a day for a small, silent prayer for strength to stay focused on where we were rather than where we had been. I still watched and waited with baited breath when he was a bit late but my concentration was centered on reminding myself that I was there by choice – that keeping my family intact was the number one priority. Things had changed – Hubby was different. He was attentive and involved. We were more emotionally connected than we had been in years. I had hope.
My relationship with Abee had been extraordinarily elusive. I was so unforgiving of that breach of loyalty that I honestly wondered if it could ever be mended. Mom was in an impossible position. She lived with and enabled Abee. Mom was tired and beyond conflict and so she surrendered to the outspoken desires; wishes; gentle demands of her daughters. Most frequently to the one that was there all the time – the one that looked out for her – the one that made mom’s life easier – at least in theory. My goal was to keep mom a part of my life yet because Abee was so intricately woven into hers, mom’s availability to me was often limited. When it looked like my life was going to work out and I was feeling happier, she would express deep sadness because I wasn’t willing to include Abee “what about holidays for the rest of our lives?” she would ask.
I had emotionally shut the door on Abee but I could see that mom was struggling. In truth – if I didn’t veer on the path we were traveling, this family would never again enjoy a Thanksgiving or a Christmas altogether. Was I really expecting mom to take sides? Our therapist began working with us together. Once a week Abee and I would meet together with the counselor and word by word we attempted to unravel the convoluted mess that now existed in the space between us. She would sit in a recliner in one corner of the room so that she didn’t have to look directly at me, sitting on one end of a sofa as we both kept our eyes focused on the person who was trying to help us find our way back to one another. By fall we were starting to talk outside of therapy. Sometimes at lunch, we would sit out back of the office on a picnic table and it would – for a tiny minute – feel like old times. I could go to moms if Abee was home as long as she wasn’t sitting right there in the room with us. I agreed to let her come to the house to see the girls if I was home but I wasn’t willing to have her interject herself back into their lives at full force. I still didn’t trust her either.
From time to time I continued to be plagued with lightheadedness and shortness of breath. Since my exams and tests hadn’t identified anything conclusive, I trudged through the ‘episodes’ as they came but I was always a little afraid of ‘what they may have missed’ and when my mind got carried away with visions of a slow and painful death from some rare brain tumor, I would pick up a book of inspiration and read.
One of the sentiments from the first book Conversations with God (pg. 54) is the quote: “Emotion is the power which attracts. That which you fear strongly, you will experience”. I thought about that quote a lot because so much of my life in recent years was based on a collection of fears that had accumulated over time.
My fear of never being able to satisfy my husband sexually.
My fear of not being needed at home because Abee could simply step in and never skip a beat.
My fear of not being able to provide for myself.
My fear of people finding out that I was living a life of lies.
I coupled those thoughts with the principle I had learned in SAGE regarding the Law of Attraction and suddenly I was wondering if I had created all of this drama in my life just because I had been afraid… was I responsible for all of this? Was the universe allowing these incidents to happen so that I could face my fears? Was this more than just some ‘silver lining’ lesson?
My therapist was wonderful about helping me digest many of the thoughts that moved through my awareness, listening, validating, and encouraging me to keep thinking. She would gently settle me when I was too hard on myself and yet would push me to move beyond my mental comfort zone when it appeared as though I was settling for the easy answer. I reconciled that I was certainly NOT individually responsible for everything that had transpired. I created a list of the areas where I was most admittedly culpable and I understood how I had ignored myself; my voice, for many years. I vowed to make sure never – ever – to move that far away from ‘me’ again. For the first time in my life, I felt proud of who I was and could acknowledge the strength that so many people had seen in me.
I realized then that like so many others in my life, I, too – had abandoned me. One day, I looked in the mirror and smiled saying “Welcome back Les… don’t ever leave again.” And I knew I wouldn’t.