Pretty Little Families

It passes so quickly…

I have to disclose that I am writing from a place of anger and hurt in this post.  I don’t care to get into the particulars.  Suffice it to say that Jared and I have at least come to an understanding regarding one issue that causes strain between us.  I suspect I’ve just finally matured to the point that I can finally say, “I love you, I’ll continue to support you, but I have to stop trying for a while and I will continue to be hurt.”  I recognize that holding onto anger is not a sign of maturity at all, but toning it down a tad is a big step from the knock-down-drag-outs Jared and I used to have because of my hurt over this issue.  I’m not talking about our marital relationship in this post.  Jared and I are great, actually.

Let’s just say that I’m an only child who is working hard to build a rich family life.  My immediate family, my extended family, my family of faith, my in-laws…I want to have authenticity  and genuine care in it all.  But I realize that you have to meet people where they are, and sometimes that means quite literally going to where they are.  Sometimes, it means letting things lie for a while. Reality is, not everyone has the means, interest, time, or wisdom to put forth the necessary effort it takes for genuine relationship sustainability.

My hurt boils down to this itty bitty nail that is still in my heart from the five agonizing weeks after Porter was born, while we waited to see if he would live, while we waited at the hospital alone.  All alone.

There were people I expected would come as a matter of course, people who made the choice not to visit us.  People who made the choice not to call.

Five years and a half years later, after three solid years of therapy, the wound still festers.  I know it’s mostly because I still look back expecting that certain people should have reacted to our situation as I would have had them react, not as they were able.  Because reality is, everyone did the best they could under the circumstances.

So, I have a choice.  Like it or not, I can only change and control myself.  I choose to let things lie for a while, to take a little time to lick my wounds and work on healing.

But I will say, pretty little families don’t just happen.  They take work.  Thank God I’ve got my family of origin, my Jared, Porter and Liam, and my family of faith.  I pray the rest will fall into place as God sees fit.


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