Heroism

Underneath lies told to protect a new beginning is a story of heroism. Not many people successfully save themselves from the lowliest of starts filled with abuse and shame. Yet I am in the presence of someone who did just that and while saving herself she saved me, too. I have a newly found understanding of the puzzle that has been our lives.

Bravissima.

The Hoarding Gene

Grandmother was a hoarder -- a hoarder of junk. Really. Junk. Luckily, Grandmother was poor. Being poor, she could only accumulate so much. Mother is a hoarder. Mother is not poor and that has created shocking mountains in every room and various areas of the yard. Some junk. Some nice things. The nice, usable things are becoming not nice and not usable. The clutter of countless tschotskes is overwhelming. The master bedroom is a hazard zone. The bathroom counter is a mountain of makeup and moisturizers covered in an inch of dust. Nuts.

Now I feel the pull of hoarding. I look around and realize it has already begun. Scary. A little self examination makes me realize that I am a particular kind of hoarder -- a hoarder of information. I have books and magazines out the wazoo. What does this stuff mean to me? Again, self-examination reveals that the things I hoard represent opportunity. Nuts.

Today I started to release things. Roads not taken are roads long gone. Get over it.

Truth

I harbor no ill feeling toward she who lied to me. I understand. She was horribly damaged at a tender age. That damaged child lurks just beneath the surface of a grown woman. I see that child occasionally. As I have gotten older I can't help but feel compassion for her.

That said, I deserve the truth. I may not know the gory details of bad acts but I know enough. None of that matters anymore.

“You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” (John 8:32) I am not a religious person but this passage resonates with me anyway.

Keep Moving

Though the hour is late because so many who knew the truth are now dead, I am rushing to pursue what little might be left. It is really a tremendous betrayal when the key person shaping your life lies by omission, misinformation, or manipulation. I anchored part of my identity in her lies. My spirit now floats untethered in a vacuum yet I keep moving to find solid ground.

Unexpected

For many decades I have been told a story - a lie. Even though I have been able to piece part of the truth together over the years, I am taken aback by the sudden loss of a basic belief. I don't really know why this is. I have known that I couldn't be sure of the truth. Still, my relative position in the world seems to have changed. I am unable to name what I am feeling. I am a little numb.