my daughter is so cool

i'm getting really excited as i'm starting to see the things we are teaching ara come out of her.

i have said before how we dont want to teach her that any religion is "right" or that she has to look at god or people any certain way, except for with love and acceptance.

i love that she got to celebrate christmas and hannukah and was excited about both. i love that she understands that boys can marry girls or boys, that girls can marry boys or girls. i love that she recognizes that papa and grandma and paki pray to jesus and mama doesn't, and both are just great. i love that she makes up songs about "kindness and beauty" (thanks to the snow lion, her absolute favorite new book)and pretends her doll is doing yoga. i love that she sings He's Got the Whole World in His Hands all the time. i love that it doesn't shock her to know some kids have no parents, some have a mama and papa and some have only one. some have two mama's some have two papa's... its all ok to her, people are different and it seems like she expects them to be.

its amazing to see what a little person can understand, to see the kind of love, compassion, tolerance and understanding that comes naturally to them and flourishes when nurtured. i love seeing this little person who has no stereotypes etched in her mind yet and no prejudice and no hate and the way she looks at people. in her eyes we really are all the same. i dont deserve anything more than anyone else and neither does she. she doesn't have to be an adult to get that we all need and deserve love and that its ok that we are all different. to me it seems like those are the ideals that come naturally to her and i get to reinforce them. when people being different than you isn't something you think you have to feel threatened by you are able to accept, love and learn from people more readily... that's what i want for her and i can see that's where she's headed.

it makes me so excited to see the kind of woman she is going to grow up to be. full of love. someone everyone wants to be around because they know when they're around her they'll be accepted and loved.

shes crafty

not me. not normally. but all of a sudden, since i've gotten back to my homemaker roots... i'm crafty.

seth and i moved, in case any of you didn't know...

and we're making a lot of the stuff for our house.

i found this website and i'm completely in love. they have EVERYTHING. its insane, and its all pretty cheap.

i will refer to this website every time i have to make decorations, invitations or just super cool things for my house. plus it has kid crafts and quilting things... its crazy. check it out. especially those ladies of mine who love making things! (ie, erin b, flo, sarah d etc!)

i'm a creep

when seth and i first started dating i was really weird.

whenever i found a tiny ketchup, Tabasco or bottle of juice i would ask him to hold it and say "family" in this really weird voice he does that sounds like stitch.

i would beg him to hold it up to his cheek while i took a picture on my sidekick.

what a HUGE creep i am.

forget daddy issues

i have enough mommy issues to last me two lifetimes.

i went to get some stuff out of my mother's garage this last time i was up north and something i didn't think would happen did.

i think i saw her from a different perspective. it was sad.

maybe i was just being nostalgic, looking at the things i had stored in boxes from my childhood. dresses she made me, books we read together. when i look at those things i still have this weird frustration. i'm like a girlfriend who was lead on. or wife beaten. i look at this person and the things they did to hurt me and they seem so careless, like i meant nothing. but there are these things i can look back on and say ''but wait, she made me this dress because i wanted nothing more than to be a snow princess'' or ''she read me this book every night during the good times" and i get so confused. i loved this person and they said they loved me. but they did all these things to show me that they didn't love me. most of the times all i can remember are the bad things, the good were few and far between. but that day i was surrounded in boxes of love.

*****

i know my mother would never view herself the way i do, and i dont think she would even agree with the new perspective i saw of her. i have no idea how she sees herself, but i'm not really interested in that. i've tried to understand the mind of my mother before and i'm not really sure that can be achieved by a sane person.

really my perspective of my mother changed for the first time when i got married. before getting married i had always seen her just as my mom, dysfunctional and a bit irresponsible yes, but manipulative and crazy, no. i always defended her to my aunt or anyone else that i would hear say things about how she parented or lived life. when i got married it was like i stepped out of the delusion and saw reality, leaving her behind. i saw from the outside how she talked to me, i saw from the outside what reality was to her and i saw from the outside how much she cared about her children, or at least how she acted out her "care". i have held this perspective for the past four years. seeing her as an adult who should be responsible for themselves but always manages somehow not to be. i've seen her as a lazy hurtful mother. i've seen her as woman addicted to men. but i've seen her as a strong person who has decided these things for herself. someone who can, and should, but doesn't take responsibility for them.

when we went to her house i just saw a lady getting older, who wont have a lot to show for her life once she's gone. i just looked around and as every bad memory and embarrassment flooded me, i realized that she's still living in the life that i abhor. the past that i'm so desperately trying to let go of, is the life that still surrounds her, and i dont quite understand how but she's just ok with it. maybe she's not and she doesn't say. maybe she's so used to it. i dont know. maybe its because she really is delusional.

i looked at this house, filled with clutter and papers as it always has been. i saw the kind of dust and dirt that old houses have, the kind that can't be cleaned. i took in the parts of this broken house, bathroom door that doesn't shut, the uneven floor, the kitchen that holds a rack for my mothers clothes and her dresser, but no kitchen table. its all the same. its the same as it has always been. i left it but it stayed. its not about the house, the house is the outside. its the embodiment of what goes on on the inside. when we live in constant chaos in our home, when messiness is the way of living for years on top of years, i believe there's messy inside. the mess is still there. i have moved away from it and i have been fighting to forget it and leave it. i try to make everything about my life the opposite of it or better than it. i try to make sure i learn from it. but she's still there, just living in it. i've never thought that the alcohol was her problem. ever. i think that was just a symptom. i think the problem is inside of her. i dont know what it is, i go back and forth thinking its not so bad, then talking to seth and realizing it is. i think sometimes shes just an irresponsible person, then i think she's actually delusional and doesn't have a grasp on reality, then i think she has chemical imbalances that she needs to figure out. i have no idea if she's actually crazy or not, i just know that when she became sober who she is didn't change.

so i look at the way she lives and i just wonder. i wonder if she is still living in a mess because she's still a mess. i wonder if its habit. i wonder if she notices or cares. i wonder if she likes it. i wonder if she has really changed since two years ago, the last time i really knew anything about her life. the tidbits i hear from those around her make me say no, but i really have no idea because i dont know her. the thing is though, even if i did know her, i dont trust her. not even a little tiny bit. i could never trust that she's ok because she says she is. i could never trust that she's not dating because she says she isn't. i dont trust that she loves me because she says she does.

i have no way of knowing how ok or not ok she really is.

i dont know what she considers to be the best thing in her life, what i feel i've seen take precedence in her life is men and herself. but i know what the best things in her life are, they are me, my sister, my brother and my children. and only half of those things are in her life.

i was thinking about what she'll have left when she dies, or even when she is very old, i mean shes starting to collect cats.. but as far as people go i wonder... will she be left alone? will my brother and sister love her as i haven't? will they forgive her? will they detach as well? she wont have money or a home of her very own. she wont have a lot of lifelong friends. odds are she wont have much family, because they are always in and out as well. its hard not to be in and out with her.

as i watched her kiss arabella and say hello to nola, a baby she doesn't even really know, i teared up. on one hand i dont want to be the one keeping my daughters from her and her from them. on the other hand, i dont think i am. i think she is. i think she already made that decision. but where do i go from here? do i keep waiting for her to be good enough to be in my life? because it might never happen. do i just accept and move on, leaving her behind? do i risk the chance of being hurt by her again and let her in? do i risk the chance of her hurting my children?

i have this weird sense of safety for nola, this weird sense of her really being all mine because my mother hasn't known her. i feel like i betrayed arabella and myself by giving a part of her to my mom. by letting her grow to love her, and nola hasn't had that chance. it makes me feel safe, even though i know its wrong.

i dont enjoy being around her, i dont get along with her and her lacking sense of reality makes me uneasy and uncomfortable. when i'm with her i have visions of my childhood and when i leave her i feel heartbreak for her and a stomach ache for myself. but i dont want all of that to decide whether my children get to know their grandmother. i want to be objective, if that's possible. i want to endure the pain and the discomfort and the frustration and the disgust i feel when being with her, if its what's best for them. i just dont know. i have no idea.

i know it sounds harsh to say that those are the things i feel when i'm around her, but i cant really control those things. if i could erase the past and take all those feelings away, i would. if i trusted that she was sorry and she was changed i would forgive her and never think of it again. but i can't forget when i'm constantly looking out for those things to pop up again, and i would be a fool to act like they wont.

when she's in my life i feel uneasy all the time. like i'm about to get deceived or trapped.

i wish it could be easy. i wish i could just handle being around her, i wish when i let her in she wouldn't seep in little by little until i feel like she's drowning me.

i wouldn't even be thinking about letting her back in if it weren't for the combination of seeing her and realizing just how sad the state of her life is and could be, and knowing how much my grandmother loves her and wants us to talk.

it would be so easy to shut her out forever and walk away. but i dont want to be a daughter that hurts her just because she has hurt me repeatedly. i dont want to stoop to her lows and treat her as though she doesn't mean anything. and more than all that i want to have a beyond good reason for keeping my daughters from her when they ask me one day. i never ever want them to feel like i kept someone out of their life who loved them because i was being selfish. i want to right by them, and even by her.

my one friend... here.

when i moved down here the first person i hung out with was sarah. she was friends with my aunt, yes my aunt, when they were in high school. she's not crazy old, my aunt is crazy young to be my aunt. anyway... just a few months or so before i moved we had become friends on facebook and she had read my blog and still wanted to know me... so i thought that must mean something.

knowing that she had read every crazy word i had said and still wanted to hang out made me feel like i was safe. i remember the first day i went there. i was so nervous sitting on her couch talking. just worried that we would hit it off in real life and that we'd actually be friends.

i LOVED her.

we were kind of inseparable from then on out. we hung out almost everyday. our kids kind of really loved each other and kind of really hated each other. i think they're truly starting to love each other now.

sarah is an AMAZING friend. i was scared going into our friendship because people have turned on me on more than one occasion... but sarah, she would NEVER. she is so beyond understanding of me its ridiculous. i never ever feel like she judges me or questions me or thinks i'm stupid or ridiculous. no matter if she agrees with me or not i always feel like she supports me. because she does. in every situation she is my friend, in the truest sense of the word and i know she is always behind me. she is really giving. she would do anything for her friends and would never expect anything in return. she's hilarious. i dont think that many people are funny, but she is. sarcasm and dry humor and i love it. shes really fun. every time i go out with her i have the best time. she's not dramatic about ANYTHING. shes one of the only friends i hang out with in real life that believes the same things i do about god and humanity etc. which is nice for a change :)

i love being her friend because she's the kind of person who i can laugh with and be stupid with, who i can talk to about superficial things and gossip with, and she's also the kind of person who i can call when tragedy strikes and i need a friend.

she's a really great mom, a really great cook and a really great photographer.

she's the kind of friend that i can not hang out with for a few weeks or months and when we do, we'll pick up right where we left off.

i feel so comfortable with her, like i have known her my whole life.

i'm so thankful i met her. i may only have one friend in my town but she's one of the best friends i've ever had.

we've almost been friends for a year now and i never thought that my aunts highschool buddy would become one of my very dearest friends, but i'm so glad she did.

pictures

alright i'm updating with some pictures.. but you can't look at them unless you have a facebook. we dont have to be friends because i made these certain albums public. dont friend me though, cause i wont accept. haha.

family time

this was our family date... we went to macaroni grill and then saw fantastic mr fox, despite that i dont like wes anderson normally, i liked this. we also took photo booth pictures. it was fun.

date night

this was the best date we've ever had. dinner, ice skating and christmas carol in 3d. so fun.

christmas tree

we got a beautiful tree, my favorite tree i've ever had from home depot!

thanksgiving

arabella helped me make pie and she got some baking utensils from my aunt laura and then we made cornbread muffins with them the next day!

my mother has a blog.

'nough said

what do i prove?

its interesting to me how people that believe in god, in prayer, in god working closely in our lives, think that that means he is real. its interesting that people, and i have been there before as well, believe that god is real and their main defense for his existence and involvement (as i have learned from asking anyone i can) is the "experiences" they've had in their life. they experience things they would see as miracles and automatically attribute it to god. its like when you already have these god goggles on and are looking for him, you find "him". duh. thats how humans work. whatever i want to look for, i will "find". god goggles.

this is now confusing to me for a few reasons. one, because i dont really understand how it makes sense that something we alone (and maybe our friends) believe is a miracle is then, a miracle. isn't this just an opinion? yes. i could look at it and easily explain away the miracle part of it. almost in every situation, even the dead being raised "by prayer" can be explained away by science. this sort of thing happens, all the time, without prayer. two, because i dont really understand where the leap from something happening in life because of our choices, or others choices, or just the movement of life jumps to a divinity specifically making your circumstances what they are. that's a big jump to me. third, even if this stuff made sense, it doesn't prove that god is real, it just proves that that person really believes he is. it doesn't prove that he is involved.

just like it doesn't prove that god is not real or involved when people pray and nothing happens. i dont believe prayer does anything exceptional. in some situations its coincidence, in some situations i believe its a group motivation or individuals motivation that spurs them to action. its not actual interaction with a higher power, its an internal interaction with your mind or an external interaction with people you surround yourself with. but again, when people pray that someone with cancer wont die, or that someone will be healed and they're not, it doesn't prove that god isn't real, it doesn't prove he's not involved.

when i was going through the craziness of this year, when i wasn't loving seth or caring about him, when i wanted to leave my family, the ONLY answer any christian had for me? to pray. to ask god to help me because they all said that i couldn't do it on my own. the only way that i would come out was with god. and you know what? god didn't help me, and i never asked him to. i made a decision, i changed my mind. there were also hormones involved in parts of it, but there were parts that had deep roots that had grown for years. there still are deep roots in me that i need to dig out, but i know i dont need to pray that somehow they will go away. that will do nothing. i have the power to move them, to unearth them, and heal my own heart.

i know people who would say that this is god despite what i believe, that god hasn't left me even though i've "forsaken him"... but why do they get to decide that both sides prove that god is real or involved? they dont. me doing it on my own doesn't prove in my mind that god is not involved in life, in my life, in everything. but other peoples "miracles", even my "miracles" certainly dont make me think one tiny bit more that god is involved or that god is real. neither one proves anything.

if you base your belief on god on experiences that you have had what does that mean? it doesn't mean anything to anyone but you.
if i base my belief that god is not involved on my experiences, that doesn't make it true.

i dont believe god is involved in our lives, i think its a possibility. but that doesn't mean much coming from me, anything is a possibility. mormons could be the right ones.

but mostly i dont believe god is involved just because life makes sense on its own. i dont feel like i need to try and figure out how it would make sense that it was all god. it already makes sense, things already work together without adding the notion that god did something.

my life experiences dont prove that god is real, or involved, or that he loves me.

but my life experiences do prove that humans are amazing complex beings. it proves that we are hurtful and loving, full of weakness and full of strength, that we are destructive and creative, it proves that we can tear down and build, it proves that we have the power. its in our hands, our lives are in our hands. i can't look back and prove god did something in my life, but i can look back and prove that i did. i can look back and say "i chose to change, i chose to do what i needed to do to move forward." or i can say "i chose not to." but i can't with certainty (as no one can) say that god did it. that is opinion, which leads to faith.

all this isn't to say that faith is bad or wrong or that people who believe god did the things in their life are wrong. i dont think that. i do think its better to believe you have the power to make your life what you want it to be, that you have the power to make yourself who you want to be because it seems to make me people take more responsibility and not blame things on god or give credit away. but i dont think its bad to have faith. the whole point of this is to ask what i prove. what will my life prove when i am gone? no ones life has proven that god is real when they died. if it had, we'd all know that god is real.

i dont want to waste time trying to live a life that "glorifies" a being, which is really a fancy way to say a life that "proves" his existence, because that is impossible and never happens. i'd rather live my life to glorify humanity and love. i want to prove that humanity is deep and amazing, that it can be very good. i want to prove that love can heal. i want my life to prove that humans can evolve.

i want to look back on my experiences, the bad things that have happened to me, and not think about where god was or is in it... that's irrelevant. i want to look at those experiences and see how i took control of them, how i came out of them, how i turned them around and i want to teach my daughters that they can do these things as well. that they hold great power in their own lives. i want to teach them how to take a hold of that and be the women they desire to be and have the life they dream of.

you've been replaced

hey real people, you've been replaced.

since i moved i still have not made ONE friend. (besides sarah, but come on, we were always friends deep inside our heart of hearts) anyway, there's really nowhere for me to make friends here, i'm in this awkward middle stage and i'm not fake.

at arabellas school there are a couple moms i like but its just really hard to get together with all the things moms down here do with their kids. i mean people are wild here. its non stop. the other moms are all too old for me, or too fake for me. i love her teachers but we're not allowed to hang out together. i dont go to church and also would probably shoot myself if i made ONE more christian friend. the young people around here just have completely different lives than me, ones i'm not interested in. i feel like my options are old fake people who love money and talk about decorating their large houses while driving extra super large blinged out suv's, or young fake scenesual people who are trying to "make it" either in fashion, or movies, oh and also they get drunk a lot.

there are like no real hippies here.

i like our upstairs neighbors but its taken the four of us about a month to get together. we're scheduled for later this month. i'm also thankful to have my old friend ryan back in my life, that is beyond great.....

but none of this actually makes a super huge difference as far as who i hang out with...

because i STILL HANG OUT WITH NO ONE. i mean NO ONE.

well i mean ryan came over like... a few days ago... and i hung out with sarah... but i dont remember how long ago that was.... its not good people.

part of this is because there is a very limited options, and part of it is because of DAMNED facebook. i get so used to having this sort of real interaction with my real friends who live far away i start to feel ok with the fact that i never hang out with anyone.

but in reality, i'm not ok with it.

i want to hang out with people. i want to have friends over. i miss sitting and talking with one of my dearest girl friends over coffee. or having couple friends over... like the lundeens!!!!!

i dont know where i'm supposed to meet people in this town. i feel like everyone i knew up north was already in place because of seth, and everyone else i met was from church.

and although i love some of those people... i can't handle having only friends who have known my husband his whole life anymore, i want friends who meet us as a couple, as we are. and lord knows i can't handle having only christian friends anymore. i like the ones i have but... i've hit my limit.

i wish there was like a fellowship for gay/lesbian, liberal, part hippie, young parents.

gosh. that would be my heaven.

i should put up a craigslist ad.

Seeking fellowship for gay/lesbian, liberal, part hippie, young parents - 24/f (Agoura hills)

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Date: 2009-12-08, 9:15PM PST

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I’m a crazy indian girly girl who loves to live life and have fun!!! I am looking for someone that is drama free who wants to be friends and is also into the same sex, lives life on the far left, loves to recycle and has little ones. If this is you email me...

PS. NO CONSERVATIVES, CHRISTIANS, FLAKES, OR SPAM...



perfect.

sometimes i want to delete my facebook and make myself find real friends, but then i'd have to actually find new friends.

i know though, whenever i feel this way, whenever i feel like i need some friends... somehow... they come to me.

forever young

i heard the quote recently "when you're a mother the days are long and the years are short."

nothing has ever described motherhood so perfectly to me before. lately the days haven't been so long. it feels like they are flying by right when i started wishing they'd last longer.

i want ara to stay her little self SO bad lately. i always say to her "pleeeease pleeeeease stay little for me!!! please??" and she says "no mama! i caaaaan't! i can't because i HAVE TO grow up!"

she's right.

but i dont want her to, not now, or anytime soon anyway...

i like the little her that thinks shes actually cinderella when she puts on her princess dress, the little her who calls seth "majesty" and "prince charmin" when asking him to dance, the little her who calls me "queen" and "precious", the little her who can only draw circles but thinks she's writing words, the little her who screams with delight when we talk about christmas.

i can't imagine the day she'll be too big to curl up on my lap, or when it will become awkward for me to pinch her lil tuchas, or when she'll want to hang out with her friends instead of with me. ... or... when she moves out.

last night she told me she "has to" live in her own house without me, or papa, or noli when she grows up. i told her she could still live with noli.

i wish i could freeze time, just for a little while. or know that i could come back whenever i wanted.

my heart feels too big for itself when i think of their little faces, their precious smiles and big eyes, their tiny little bodies, their belly laughs when seth is tickling them. i need these little girls. life before them doesn't even look like a good memory compared to the ones we're making.

i know i can't keep them little, and i dont want to be the mom that won't let go when its time. but oh how my heart aches with each passing day, knowing its just one day closer to them growing up.

i'm soaking them up. i could never get enough. doesn't it feel like you're always getting almost enough of them? even when i want to be alone i miss them. i can't even describe how good it is to look at arabellas sweet face, when she looks back at me like im the only thing in the world and just says "mama, i love you... sooooo much."

i take comfort in knowing that the only other person who could ever understand just how amazing they are, the only one who will remember all the little things they did as babies or as little girls that we held so dear, the only one who will ever love them as much as me, will be right there with me when i'm old and need to soak in the memories of these precious little girls. he'll be there to know exactly what i'm talking about and to miss it too. he'll be there to see what these girls have become and be proud of them too. he'll be there to enjoy every moment of these two amazing lives we created together.

Animal soup

When I was little there was a very short amount of time when I had the "normal" family. Nice house, stay at home mom, other siblings and a big back yard. My mother made dinner every night and even though we usually ate at tv trays, we were together.

Once my mom divorced my step dad the dinners stopped. I can only honestly remember one time after that that dinner was made like it was back in the family days and we actually sat around a table and ate. But one thing that always stayed was "miller surprise". It sounds like maybe the creepiest meal made but it's really just chicken noodle soup. It doesn't taste like anyone elses soup and it doesn't have any veggies. Whenever I wanted that soup, my mom would make it. She may have failed miserably at all the big things, but this small thing, she conquered. And maybe it was only soup but it was a constant in my life of chaos.

I always loved the warm smell that would fill our house when she made that soup. I would eat the left overs for days and days.

When I became a vegetarian realizing I would never again eat this soup was one of the main deciding factors I juggled before committing.

Lately my grandparents have all but completely lost their appetites. My grandma can't really cook anymore so they survive mostly on frozen dinners and protein shakes. None of my aunts or my mother lives close so they are almost left to take care of themselves alone. My grandpa has daughters from his first marriage that live about an hour or so from them, so they do as much as they can, which is a pretty great amount.

My grandparents came to thanksgiving at my house this year and I think I just had one of those slap you in the face realizations that we don't have forever.

My grandma is perfect to me. I love her with all my heart, she can do no wrong and I still get exicted to see her. I love getting cards in the mail from her and still cherrish the little stickers she uses to close them. I don't ever want to live without her around, but I know I will have to.

Well, since I know I have right now I figured I should use it. I told them I'd make them homecooked meals that they could freeze and eat when they wanted.

Miller suprise is simmering on my stove for them and my house is filled with that same warm smell. I can't taste it, so hopefully my nose won't fail me, but I have a feeling it's going to be just as delicious and heart warming as it was for me when I was 5.

patchwork

my father was stabbed at a bar in LA, walked across the street and died in highland park when i was three and half years old.

* * * * *

i had dinner with my grandparents last night.

these grandparents are not biologically related to me, or my dad, but they are all i have known as grandparents and all he ever knew as real parents.

they are some of the most AMAZING people i know. its insane.

they got married in their very early 20's and right after my grandma had gotten pregnant with her first child (and after only 6 months of being married) my father and his younger brother showed up on their doorstep looking for a place to stay.

they only lived in a tiny "honeymoon" house, they called it, at a mission site in LA. the only extra room they had was a walk in closet that had been turned into a kind of bedroom with makeshift bunk beds.

my father was 11 and my uncle 6. they had just moved to LA from seattle with their mother. she had been an alcoholic and from what my dad told my grandfather he spent most of his childhood cleaning up her vomit, dragging her out of bars, and wondering where she was. him and my uncle would sleep in goodwill bins (in winter, in seattle) when they went out to find her and couldn't.

she had had her own life of anguish which left her unable to be a fit parent. a native american girl that came from a government run orphanage. none of us know much about her, how old she is even. she is full of shame for her heritage and wont speak about her past or the other children that came before my father that none of us know. they were all given up.

so when my grandma and grandpa allowed my father and uncle to stay with them, in a warm home, with warm loving people, you could imagine how happy they were. my grandpa was telling me stories from when he first came to live with them. about their first christmas in my grandparents home. they gave my father tennis shoes and he slept with them all night clutched tightly in his arms. i can see how much my grandpa loved my dad and how deeply he cared for him when he speaks of him. i feel the same way about how much he loves me.

they ended up staying until they were grown. my grandparents had 4 children of their own after my dad and uncle came. when their kids were grown, actually even before their youngest was out of their house, i moved in. ever since i left they have still had a child at their house up until the past few months or so. their own moving back in, with grandkids... or people coming to stay from other countries. their home has continuously been open to people in need. the amount of compassion and grace they live in amazes me and seth.

it was so great, and so strange to hear about my dad. on the one hand it was just crazy interesting because i know nothing about him. nothing. i have asked a couple questions over my lifetime but really haven't learned much. its always been too embarrassing of a subject for me to even think about, much less talk about. on the other hand it was really hard because at every second i wanted to cry. my heart ached for him and the things he went through. i wanted to scream because i'm so mad i dont know him. hearing about him made me realize just how much we had in common, how much we shared that maybe he could have helped me with. i was nerve wracking because i felt so ashamed and embarrassed for missing him and wanting to know him. for talking about someone who is gone. it was intriguing because i couldn't stop wondering if he could see me somehow. if his soul is somewhere off the earth resting, if he is here in another body and doesn't know about me, if he's just gone. it was like a weird book i was reading or something.. hearing about a person who is closer to me than anyone on this earth, yet an absolute stranger. i feel close to him, when people talk about him i feel like i know him in my heart better than anyone, but i dont. i've never even heard his voice.

somehow he's still a part of me. and this brought me to another very frustrating realization. that just as much as he will always be a part of me, that he will always be in my heart and head, that he will always have a stake in my life, as a dead man, then so will my mother. who is very much alive. no matter how little i talk to her or think about her, she is a part of me. i have spent so much time wanting to deny her, get her out of me, forget her, make her disappear from my entire being and i'm JUST now realizing... i can't. ever. she is in me. there will always be things about me that sing of her. i have no control over that.

so there are these two people, both seem like strangers. like ghosts. two people i will never really know, but they live in me. somehow our hearts are connected forever.

with my mother this means i have to find the good in her and let that live in me. i have to be ok with that she is not all completely wretched. i have to love the parts of her in me, or i will only end up hating me.

with my father this means he's not gone. not completely. and it means he is real. he's not an imaginary story that someone made up.

my grandparents have boxes of pictures of him, pictures i have never seen. so im planning to go and look, and try not to feel like a freak for caring. i want to look into trying to find my family, all his sisters or brothers that came before him, there were 6. i want to go visit my real grandmother. before she's gone.

its always been so insane to me how seth knows so much about his family, how they have things to pass down. its not something i've ever wanted or thought about. i'd like now to create my own traditions, to pass down my things for my grandchildren, and to learn as much as i can about our gypsy style family. we may not be a normal family with china and silver, with family trees that date back to the year our family stepped off the boat, but our history is full of colorful stories, of mystery, pain, and life. its my own patchwork quilt that i am stitching together on my own...