Almost seven years after The Wedding…
My dad met my stepmom (Gayle) not long after my parents divorced. I think for them it was love at first sight, or something close to that. It wasn’t long before they were living together. Over an hour away.
New life. New friends. New family.
I dreaded going for visits. I felt out of place. Unwanted. Pushed to the side.
But there was one highlight to every visit. I got to spend time with Gayle’s mother, Maude. I loved her, and she loved me. I would find refuge at her house. She always had a generous hug, a hearty laugh, and a “how’s your momma?”
She was the only person that acknowledged this other side of my life. Because she got it. She understood that ripped in half feeling, and with love, she tried to tape those sides back up together so that I could be whole again.
She passed away in January of 1997. It had been years since I had seen or talked to my dad, but I knew I had to go to the funeral. I had to say good-bye to this woman that meant more to me than she ever knew. The woman that, I’m sure, set the example that would forge the extended family I have today.
I drove my brother over so that they would not have to take the time to pick him up, and also because I needed the support. I attended the service at the church and the graveyard. Afterward, I went to a get together of people at my Dad’s house. I felt just as out of place as I had all of those years ago, but this time I didn’t have the person that made it all right.
I was sitting at the table in the kitchen when someone sat down with me to talk.
“How did you know Maude?”
“I’m Jamie’s daughter.”
“Oh… really? I didn’t realize he had a daughter.”
“He does.”
Now, years later, I can see my part in this, but at the time all I felt was a sharp knife of betrayal. I got up from the table and left. I’m not even sure I took my brother back home. I just knew I couldn’t stay there any longer.
That stabbing pain of betrayal would work on me over the next 10 months until I made a decision that changed everything.
Next is The Reconciliation…
Note: It is very, very important to note right now that I love my stepmom and every single member of her family. It may have taken me longer to realize it than it should have, but they ARE my family. I don’t know what I would do without them. I know this story is hard to read, it is hard to write, but this is what has molded me into the person I am today. And I would not be who I am if I did not have the love that followed all that came before.
Between the wedding and the funeral there was one other major thing that happened (because I’m only writing the big things, there were lots of smaller… less painful… things). It was painful, but my story is so intertwined with the other people involved that I am unable to separate my feelings from what my memory perceives theirs to be. Therefore I’m skipping that part.
This a series I’m writing about my relationship with my Dad. This is the story of my pain based on my perceptions of events. Some of it will not be pretty, but it is time for me to set these memories free. Mistakes were made by everyone, including me, so please read with a soft heart and forgiveness so that I may forgive myself. Also, please keep in mind there are always at least two sides to every story.
Some people will probably think that I should not write this, but I offer up two quotes from Anne Lamott for the reason why I should.
If people wanted you to write warmly about them they should have behaved better.
Forgiveness is giving up all hope of having had a better past.
I will be linking these posts up with Heather of the Extraordinary Ordinary for Just Write because that is the only way I will be able to get them out… to just write.
Write it out, honey. Maude was a gift. And truly, if you want to write out the little parts, I know your readers will want to hear about that, too. Courageous.
She was a true gift. The little things don’t really matter anymore. I’ve let those go. Now I have to work on these big ones.
Maude sounds like she was an amazing person. I’m glad you were able to have that connection with her, if even for a short time.
She was an amazing person. I knew that I missed her, but I’m not sure I realized how much until I started writing this post. So many people to miss.
Reading your story makes me really think about my relationship with my dad. My parents are divorced too. I’m glad you are able to get it all out. Speak from your heart. I can’t wait to read more.
I hope your parents divorce and relationship afterward was smoother than my parents.
I’m with TKW. Write it out and if you want to delve into the smaller things, do it. We are here regardless. And yes, that table scene hurt me for you, but I hope getting it out takes some of the pain away.
The little things don’t matter anymore. Now I need to let go of the big ones.
I read this today while I was sitting in the walk in to learn I have poison ivy in October. ANYWAY! I just want to give you a big hug. These moments in our lives are always hurtful, even if they aren’t designed to be. I know I have had to deal with the little comments that feel like a knife to the heart simply because I am overly sensitive. It seems like we both have that in our souls hun.
I hope your poison ivy gets better soon!
Again- I totally get this. I had a bit of a different dynamic in that there was a period where I was forbidden to see my father after the divorce- and I think it made it weirder. My step sister was in the same school and same grade as me- and although she is a lovely person, I hated her. I hated her because she got to spend time with my dad and my grandparents when I wanted to be there. And then, two years later, I lied to my mom and said I was going out with friends and instead went to my grandmother’s house. And I was received with love, but all I felt was the stab of betrayal as she spoke of taking my step sister to her driving test and seeing my step sister and brother’s pictures around. I felt as if I had been replaced. I realize now that is not true.. but it was my perception.
I was very much encouraged to see him and talk to him. I am also very stubborn.
Your words are going to go out there and set someone free. Ya freaking Hero.
How ballsy of you to admit your part. I don’t know if I’m man enough to hang around where people are gonna be all straight up like this.
I don’t know about ballsy. More like trembling in fear that I may hurt someone in the process of healing myself.
God forbid that would be the case, but you are setting an incredible example of healing by being genuine. Choosing to see the whole picture. I honor you. I hope one day to be as brave, sorting out my own past.
I think it’s so incredibly wonderful you are getting these stories and memories out so that you may heal. Those are beautiful quotes you included, too. Maude sounds like a wonderful influence on a young and highly impressionable little girl. Xoxo
She was a good influence on a lot of people. We were all lucky to have her in our lives.
Those are great quotes. And Maude sounds like she was awesome. Keep writing.
Thankfully I’m getting close to the end.
thanks for sharing that story about your family.
I”m sad you had to go through this. But I’m so happy you had a wonderful person like Maude in your life. God knew what he was doing, giving her to you like that, even if it was only occasionally and only for a short period of time.
Man, do you have to keep giving us these cliffhangers? I feel like you should end with , “TUNE IN NEXT WEEK…” LOL
We’re getting close to the end, and if you’ve been reading for awhile (like you) then you know how it all ends anyway.
I love these posts and I think you are doing a wonderful thing! ((Hugs))
Thanks. It has been very, very hard, but each time I feel a little freer afterward.
I believe God put Maude there. And I’m so glad to hear that your relationship with that part of the family has improved since the funeral.
Maude sounds like a wonderful, loving person. I’m sorry for your loss and my heart breaks for all the pain and confusion you have lived with.