Rain keeps falling, rain keeps falling down, down down…~ Simple Minds

I had this great post written and, with a flick of my wrist and a wave of my (non-existent) wand, it disappeared. So, I shall try to replicate it. Take two…

I got up this morning and had a pretty decent night sleep, which can be a minor miracle for me at times. It wasn’t raining (a rarity here lately) and the Lil Bit’s migraine was gone to the point that he could go back to karate class. When we got there, the kickpad (to practice kicks and punches at home) had arrived. This was pretty exciting as he’d been waiting quite a few weeks for it to arrive. Since they had opened the pool at our property, we went and got swimming suits so we could go swimming later. We stopped in to visit a friend at work and then came home. We went down to the pool for a bit, while the weather was holding out. When it began to look like it was going to rain, we came up, made some brownies, dinner, a little work, etc. We spent a few hours working with his kickpad and practicing the moves he needs for his next belt test. All in all, a lovely day. All ruined by one nasty comment from my mother.

I’ve also written before about my difficult relationship with my mother and how it pushes me to be a better mother, I hope. There comes a point where it’s impossible to apologize for bringing the worst out in someone when all they give you is their worst! I needed to vent to someone who understood. For me that person is my little brother. We’re both quite busy so we don’t often have time for more than a quick text or picture of the kids exchanged. I love him dearly and he is one of my favorite people on earth, truly. It’s really nice when we get to talk for a while. We lamented a bit about our mother, mainly the fact that we will never had the mother people want to have. We won’t have the mother that becomes the grandmother our kids can’t get away from and that’s okay. We have each other, we have friends, we have our kids and we strive each  and every day to be a better parent than we got. Our father passed away when I was 9 and my brother was 3 (Lost loved ones.) and sometimes we do both feel robbed. Sometimes we feel angry (he was a doctor, told in medical school he had a polyp, in the 70s- no one knew what cancer WAS) because if he had been treated, he would still be here, maybe.

But maybes don’t get you anywhere. Maybe a billion things. Maybe I wouldn’t exist if he had continued to exist. Maybe there is some kind of karmic debt. Who knows? I do know there are people WAY, way worse off than I. I know that I have a husband that loves me and will always come home to me. I know I have three beautiful, amazing, happy children. I see them growing up and developing friendships, loves, bonds, and even children of their own. I can’t be anything but happy. I’ve brought these amazing people into the world.

At the end of the day, I can’t care if she doesn’t like it, because I do.

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