Tuesday, February 22, 2011

watering the drive in your underwear

I grew up with an unavailable Father.  It wasn't by his choice, it was the luck of the draw.  Either that, or too much aluminum in his food.
A combination of a few things related to the time I was raised, and the Alzheimer's, has made me unavailable, in life, also.
Recently I have heard I have a tough outer shell, that I can really be a cold, hearted, bitch...where is my compassion?
Maybe, just maybe, I lost my compassion.  I lost it somewhere between child hood and teen years.  I lost it sledding in the beautiful Michigan snow with my dad and picking him up at the guard house, in our gated community, after he had wondered off in his underwear .... and was found on the 3rd hole of the golf course, looking for golfballs.
Yes, golfballs .
 I became a non crier.  I became tough and I found a sense of humor.   I found my own defense mechanisms.  I never really thought much about friends coming over and seeing dad watering the driveway, instead of the grass, in his underwear.  
Hell, at least he had underwear on.  
My select group of friends knew the situation and dealt as well as they could, uncomfortably so, but dealt with it.  I believe it was because with the crazies at the Graves' house came quite a bit of unsupervised fun and a lot of adult parties.  Maybe it was because they liked me...but I never thought about that until recently.
I'm not sure I ever properly learned how to love.  Our household was busy with drama.  Stolen tires in the swimming pool, pot growing unknowingly in Mom's beautiful garden, locks changed on the doors too many times to count, and too many calls from the local jail.  Banned to a different room was my way of life growing up.  I wasn't to hear what was going on, but, Ohhhh what I heard and it formed my life.  All those brothers yet no real men in my life to form a proper identity as to what was right and what was wrong.
I never dated.  I tried.  I fell in love.  Yet there was no one to tell me what to do or not to do.  There was no father to bring this young man to meet.  By the time I was in that "too late young love" stage I was a goner.  The only deterrent I got from dating the guy was from my family who just stated they hated him and my gay brother who told me he once slept with him". Neither worked.... but as we all know, young love pans out, and the light shone bright.  Unfortunately, I will have to say, this first young love was the man who shaped my ideas of relationships and when this programming happens young, it is extremely hard to change.
No available father, crappy first loves, and a tough exterior, combined with that shitty sense of humor and here I am, at 42...still waiting.  Waiting to learn what is normal, when to give in and say this is as good as it gets or when to ask for more.  
Compassion?  I have a dog...I talk baby talk and kiss in-between his eyes...
Compassion? I clean peoples asses and tell them it's ok...I tell them I'll get them any type of pain medicine they want...not to worry.  
Compassion?....I speak to the dying and tell them its ok to go towards the light...I brush their hair before the family arrives.
The compassion has been sucked out of me.
Cold hearted bitch?  yea, probably, its a defense mechanism.
Little girl who stopped maturing at age 13, definitely...very much so.

write ya later

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