Why? Why is it that when I turned 37, both of you decide you want to hear from me? You two cannot agree on anything except that my 37th year on earth was the year for you both to ask my sister for me to allow her to share my contact info... Oh, that's right, you both did agree to have children neither of you ever wanted. That was mighty cool of ya! What makes you think that you deserve a moment of my time? Why would you feel that there's any room in my life for you? After all this time. Years have passed and will continue to do so. I don't need you now. I did then, but not now. Dear Mom & Dad, No. No, I don't want to make amends. No, I don't care what's happening in your life. No, I don't want you in mine. You don't deserve to know me. I am who I am because of you. That sounds good but it's not the way you think. I'm true to my word because of all my mom's lies. I'm careful around alcohol because of my dad's alcoholism. I always show up because of all the times my mother never did. I'm a gentle parent because of the abusive hands of my father. I'm loving my life and myself despite you. You never loved me, Diane. You never wanted me, Ken. Does that clear it up? Does that make it more clear? I don't need you. I do not need you. That abused, lonely, hopeful child needed you. She needed both of you. She's gone now. I raised her and healed her. She's found love. She's found peace. She grew. Without you. When I wanted a mom, when I wanted a dad, when I needed you both: you didn't want me. Why? Why would I want either of you in my life with neither of you ever wanted me? I don't need you now and I don't want you around.
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On Sunday, we ventured out to a local lake... there's a handful or so around these parts so we just went to one that we haven't been to in YEARS, like 16 years. We packed a picnic lunch and loaded up the trunk with the cooler and the metal detector. The weather was grey, rain was in the forecast but nothing major... some slight summer rain, and spotty showers at best. It might be a little wet but we're heading to a lake so that's kinda the point... to get wet.
Arriving at the lake, the rain has let up and we spot a picnic table close to the kayak dock. Grabbing the cooler, we set up lunch under a lovely tree, at the picnic table. The rain is coming down lightly, almost a sprinkle... which was nice and didn't sog up the bread too badly. After we had finished eating, we drop the cooler off at the car and begin down the trail through the woods, to the lake. We make it maybe 100 yards before the rain picks up. It begins to pour, like, full fledged storm pour; minus the thunder and lightning. NOPE. Not happening. Load it up. We run, as best as we can. I will say the husband was running in sneakers much better than I was in my ugly slides. Hopping in the car, I realize that my period has decided to be extra heavy while it was raining and I've leaked through and started getting red spots on my jean shorts. Fan-fucking-tastic. We begin driving, looking for a bathroom, hoping for a shower room or something similar. We pass a couple of port-a-potties and... I just can't, unless I absolutely have to. We make it to the entrance/exit of the park with no sign of a real bathroom. Whelp, guess I HAVE to. Turning around and heading back into the park, we head back towards the port-a-potties. The husband notices that the park office has an "open" sign on it and suggests that I go in and ask if there's an actual bathroom. I get out of the car and scurry in the pouring rain to the door of the office. Opening it, I see an older woman at the back watching the rain through a window, and a younger gentleman off to the right side at a drive-up window. Neither of them noticed I had entered the office. I walk up to the desk. "Excuse me", I say to alert them of my presence. This looks like a scene from a horror movie... woman soaked from head to toe, lost at the lake, asking for instructions from two 'distracted' park employees. *here we go* lol. "Hi", I continue, "Is there a bathroom near here at all that I can use?" As the older lady turns around, the younger man turns to me first and says, "Yeah, you go down this way", he points back into the lake, "And it'll be about a mile in." The whole time he is telling me where this bathroom is, the older woman is standing in the back shaking her head "No". I, kinda, interrupt the man to say, "Well, this is a lady thing bathroom issue and I'm starting to stain my shorts. Can I use the bathroom here?" "Yes, through the curtain, and that way", the lady says as she points to the other side of the office. "Thank you, I appreciate it." As I was closing the door, I hear the older lady talking to the younger man. "Sometimes, you just have to be a nice human." I did what I needed to, dried the bathroom as best I could as I was drenched, thanked the park employees once again, and left. But the point is... Sometimes, you have to be a nice human. Memories, they're a real trip, aren't they? It's incredible how we can recall the same event so differently from someone who experienced it alongside us. Take parents and their kids, for instance – they often share memories, but the way they remember them can be worlds apart. Why? Well, it all boils down to the different lenses through which adults and children view life's experiences. Parents, they don't exactly relish the idea of painting themselves as the villain in their kids' memories, so sometimes they gently insist that their version of events is the right one. I remember once when I tried to broach the subject of my tumultuous childhood with my dad, he nonchalantly replied that he "doesn't remember it that way." There was no point in arguing; he'd never see himself as the bad guy. So, I had to let that particular memory go, as he saw it. On the flip side, there are times when you draw a complete blank on something, and yet, that very same memory holds immense value for someone else. What might have been a mere blip on your life's radar could be an unforgettable treasure for another soul. Just a few months back, my sister sent me a screenshot featuring a meme about peeking into your older sibling's diary. She captioned it with, "I never had to sneak to read my sister's diary. She would read me passages from her journal all the time. It's one of my favorite childhood memories. Her life seemed so much cooler than mine." I do recall sharing my teenage journal entries with my little sister, but I never saw it as particularly fascinating or cool. Back then, I had just a handful of friends, and my sister, well, she's been one of my closest friends forever. I couldn't recite a single passage from my journal that I shared with her, but I do know those moments held significance for her, as she still remembers them over two decades later. Then there's the issue of perspective skewing memories. A 17-year-old girl running away from home might be etched in her family's memory as abandonment, while she herself recalls it as an act of self-preservation. Memories, man, they're a real trip, aren't they? Hello there! I'd like to take a moment to reintroduce myself to you.
I go by the name Tuesday. My passions span a variety of creative outlets: I write, draw, digitally design, bake, cook, and even dabble in candy making. While I once aspired to become a renowned smut author, I've since embraced a more pragmatic approach to life. Presently, I'm channeling my talents in the kitchen into a new venture - my very own home business. My specialty? Crafting delectable THC-infused treats that, if I may say so, are absolutely irresistible. Bringing joy to the lives of those around me is something I hold dear, and I'm head over heels for my husband. Some might say I possess a touch of "witch luck," an almost indescribable knack for serendipity. You could also call me a bit of a hippie, although my husband insists I'm more in tune with the Earth than the dirt itself. In essence, I'm just me, doing what I love, and things have a way of falling into place. If you're curious to learn more about me, feel free to ask. And if you'd like to stay connected, you can find me exclusively on Twitter at @tuesday_daily. Wishing you a fantastic day! I'll be back next week, as I've got some exciting days ahead of me. |
AuthorMarried. Mother. Writer. Artist. Witty. Clever. Positive. Obnoxious. Amazing. Archives
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