Play Sweet Home Alabama
I hope you will forgive my lack of attention to this blog as of late, you see, I have been going through a serious trauma completely unrelated to the subject of this blog. After months of counselling and reliving a part of my life I wanted to bury deep, I finally see light at the end of that tunnel. So as I near the end of that journey I am relieved and I am feeling so much better about EVERYTHING! I can’t tell you about it yet, maybe never will, yet I will say this, your past can’t be buried it must be faced and dealt with. If you can face things rather forgotten, it is like being set free. It is like a second chance at happiness.
And now onto my Blog on Parental Alienation and Healing…
Let me start by recalling a dream I’ve had twice this month. Such a weird dream I have no idea what to make of it. In the dream, Jill, my kids stepmother, is patiently and kindly, sitting next to me trying to teach me to play Vivaldi on a beautiful, shiny black, grand piano. We are both smiling, we seem happy, we seem like true friends, maybe even family. Her playing is superb and I simply love it. She has given me 3 keys to play and nods when I am meant to play them. Together we play, together we enjoy music. That is it; that’s the whole dream.
If any of you expert dream interpreters out there can give me your opinion of this repeated dream, I am all ears.
My daughter Libby is due to bring forth my 3rd grandchild in July. So far this will be the only grandchild I have even met. I have been not only invited to be there, but told explicitly that I am wanted in the labor and delivery room.
To me this seems only fair for me to be in that room with Libby because of what happened when she attended my prenatal appointment back in 1995, when I was pregnant with her sister Wanda. Back then she certainly got the up-close view of my pregnant reproductive parts and then some.
You see, I was at the OB/GYN and little Libby was sitting in the chair next to the door when my very English (as in Great Britain) doc came into the room in a flurry as was her style.
I was naked under paper garments, I was lying on the table feet in stirrups, and a paper sheet blocked my view of all activity below my waist. The Doc asked me the usual questions, “How’s everything?…” and then she asked “Is it okay with you if your daughter is here for the exam?”
“Of course” I replied, my eyes fixed on the fluorescent light fixture in the ceiling. “Okay” she said somewhat under her breath, as she proceeded to insert the speculum into my vagina.
Next thing I know I hear her talking softly and explaining… ‘this is where babies come from’, and ‘I’m just checking to see if everything with your mommy is alright’. Then I felt the tiny finger press on something reserved only for my husband and I realized that my sweet, always calm, obedient, capable of sitting still for 5 minutes, daughter (can you feel the sarcasm?) Libby, had popped up when the doc entered and proceeded to observe and participate in my full exam.
I pretended it was normal (ha ha ha!); further I believe the Doc was glad to deviate from her solo routine of pregnant vulva inspections. Needless to say this visit to the Doc’ became one of those things I will never forget.
So I am Alabama bound in July.
I wish I could calmly state that going back has no emotional attachment, other than the excitement over the bringing of a new life into this world, but in fact I am bombarded with anticipatory emotions, pummelled with quite possibly irrational emotions and made up scenarios in which I once again am made the odd man out.
Oh don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Even if it means I have to hear one or more of my other children say something heartbreaking, or face a Jill who would rather drop a piano on my head than teach me to play it (Not saying that she would, just hoping she won’t).
So the excitement builds as the due date is just about a month out.
Pray for me, Dear readers. Pray all is well for my grandchildren (every one of them), pray for my family and all of it’s new members.
Thanks for reading,
Much Love to All!