Monthly Archives: October 2014

Expectations and Crutches

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I often ponder what happened to my family of origin.  I haven’t even begun to make sense of it all.  I carry it with me every moment of the day just under the surface.  I’ve gotten pretty good at accepting that my father has never really loved me.  I don’t believe he’s capable, so it makes it easier to live with.  Well, easier to live with than thinking I’m just not worth it or believing that I did something worthy of complete rejection by the people who brought me into the world.

I had something happen a few days ago at work that really threw me for a loop.  First, let me go back to Tuesday.  I had a rough meeting with a parent of one of my students.  So, I went back to my classroom feeling a bit melancholy.  I decided that I needed to do something productive instead of being gloomy, so I brought up my kiddos contact information and starting at the top of the list, I called every student’s parent in my class.  I got to talk to all but 3 of them.  It was really great being able to honestly share with all of these sweet parents just how blessed I feel to be able to share this school year with their precious babies.  I left the school just an hour and a half later with a whole new attitude.

The following afternoon, at our regular staff meeting, our awesome principal announced that we were to all go to our classrooms and call as many parents as we could to tell them something honest and wonderful about their child.  – At first I was flustered because I had just done this the day before…  Then I was excited because I figured after I called the 3 parents I missed the day before, I would have a few minutes to check papers or something – Yep, sometimes I am that pitiful…

So, I reached two of the three parents, had really nice conversations with each of them and then the staff returned to the meeting to share out.  Apparently this is an annual thing at my new school and while teachers call students’ parents, the administrators call the teachers’ parents.  The stories were adorable: cute dad’s proudly talking on and on about their daughters, mom’s initially being worried when the school called and then agreeing that their adult child was amazing, etc.  I found myself stuck in this vortex of loving to hear how loved my coworkers are by their moms and dads, feeling envious of how proud their parents are of them, and a little panicked that they somehow found my parents’ number and talked to one of them.  The second conflict in my mind (and heart) was hoping my father didn’t answer the phone and say something awful, while secretly wishing my parents could hear that I am a pretty good teacher and feel a little proud of me.

It took all the self-control I had just to stay in my seat and not allow any tears to show.  Even though no one in the room, except my sweet husband knows my parents haven’t spoken to me in over 4 years, I sat there knowing I had no parents who would welcome a call about their daughter.  When I read those sweet quotes on sites like facebook that say things about spending time with your parents if you are blessed enough to still have them here, I always feel a twinge of grief.  I don’t have to hide my feelings when I see those because it’s just me and the computer.  The other day, in my staff meeting, was a whole other animal.  As much as I don’t enjoy being caught off guard about my relationship with my parents and risking making a complete fool of myself, I am thankful for a chance to re-examine how I feel and not continually stuff my heartache for such a long time that I risk eventual cancer or a million other terrible illnesses.

I cried myself to sleep Wednesday night.   I had a 20 minute pity party Thursday night.  I haven’t been sleeping very well for the last few weeks, so that makes me a bit overly sensitive, I know, but I’m also just sad.  It’s okay for me to embrace how heartbroken I am.  I can do it just a bit now and then, but then it’s time to put it away, folded up neatly and tucked away again just under the surface.

I went to see the movie, “This is Where I Leave You,” today.  The family was full of disfunctional members.  They reminded me of how most families I know are made up of people who have junk and how necessary grace is.  Sometimes I wonder if my expectations are too high or if I take things too personally and that’s why I’m estranged from part of my family of origin.  Other times I wonder what took me so long to insist on respect.  I believe with my whole heart that healthy boundaries are as necessary as grace.  I struggle with locating the line between grace and respect and doormat and bitch.  I struggle with knowing that I may never make peace with or really be loved by my parents.  I’m not sure how I’ll walk through that one day…

You see it’s always just below the surface…

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