17 September 2008

Sometimes it Takes a Disaster to Clean Things Up

I know - easy for me to say right? My house is in one piece. All members of my family are intact. Life can go back to normal fairly easily once the electricity goes back on. The losses are few. The inconveniences are minimal. My kids and I aren't even at our house - so we haven't even given up more than a night's sleep. We are provided with a bed to sleep in, privacy, and creature comforts. But for me the prevailing thought in my mind the last few days was how no disaster swirling around me could ever compare to the disaster that I have felt for most of my life on the inside.
Relationships with family have always been awkward. The feeling of not really belonging with either side has always caused extreme discomfort. The fragility has been delicate to the point of apologizing for taking up space where someone else far more worthy might reside including in my own skin. I can't even begin to articulate the brokenness, shame, guilt, and fear that have surrounded me.
This visit with my family has been different than ever before. I know a lot of it is me. I am different. I have changed. As my friend Stephanie would say, "I've had the stick removed". I feel so cared for by my dad. I can't explain that - it isn't like he never tried to take care of me - but where it may have seemed obligatory before, it now feels like he wants to make sure we know we are loved here. My nieces and nephews have grabbed my heart in a new way, and Aunt Julie's heart is so full that it could burst at their songs, their antics, their toothless grins. My sister (I know you are reading Laurie!) and I are having absolutely so much fun together. She has me addicted to her favorite show "Prison Break" - but I just love hanging out with her.
Hurricane Ike brought not only the winds of destruction, but the winds of change.

4 comments:

  1. Oh Lucy, it makes me SO happy to hear such good things happening for you. You do deserve them, you always have. You know that I know that feeling of "taking up too much space or time or love or oxygen or whatever". I guess that is a lot of what our friendship has been based on, that understanding. I want you to know that not having that in common this once & having this happen for you makes me indescribably joyful & I hope your family's love just keeps washing over you like the waves on a Galveston beach. :) Beauty for ashes my friend. Be loved. Ethel

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  2. Your first paragraph sounded like me a few years ago! God is a deliverer!

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  3. Sounds like a perfect way to live through a disaster.

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  4. That brought tears to my eyes. So happy for you all.

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♥ Juls ♥