numb...

I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned it before, but I think whoever reads my blog probably knows that I'm on the outs with most of my family. Especially my parents. (I decided around 19 years old that I didn't want to follow the rules of the religion we all practiced. Therefore I was ousted until I was ready to say I was sorry, then would be welcomed back into the religion and able to speak to my family members who practiced. Well, here I am 30 and am still not ready to apologize.) Against the rules, I decided last year to start sending my mom little gifts here and there once I learned that she loved seeing pictures I sent my sister of my son, Gibson.

I crocheted her some scarves and sent them. Waited some time, never heard anything except from my sister how my mom liked her purple scarf. Ok, that's fine, my mom was still following the rules. I wasn't surprised, but I was a little tiny bit hurt. But not bad.

Next I sent her her OWN envelope of pictures of Gibson so that she wouldn't have to get any from my sister. No note, I just sent pictures. Waited, nothing from my mom. Only my sister telling me that my mom received the pictures. Ok, I still was ok with that I think. At least on the surface.

Last, I was at Disneyland and bought some taffy for her. I know my mom used to LOVE taffy. So I sent her a bag of it. Waited. Nothing. Just mention of it from my sister. But nothing from my mom. She was really sticking to the rule. I couldn't win her over with candy even.

I went through some crap with that, trying to realize that I really wouldn't ever talk to my parents again, unless I saw them at a funeral. And they especially would never get to meet Gibson. I think now, that what hurts the most, is that parents can let something, such as a religion, take them away from their child. Even being brought up to believe that God comes first, I still could never ever see putting that before my Gibson. Gibson is my world. Gibson is the only blood that I basically have, that I know will never set me aside. And that I'll never set him aside. For anything or anyone. No matter what.

I don't know what my family believes love is. How can I spend 19 years of my life in the religion and walk away not understanding why a God would allow this sort of treatment between family members? It's odd, but being away from my family has made me realize how much family means, maybe because it was taken away, and you "never know what you had until it's gone", but now I have a family that is so loving, and shows it everyday to each other, in what they say, how they act, how they help each other out. To me, that's how God wants people to be to each other. Not casting each other out because they've "messed up". Or decided they don't want what was shoved down their throats their entire lives until they were old enough to decide for themselves what they wanted.

So the other day, my husband got a package in the mail. Guess from who? My mom. As soon as he told me, I felt a lump in my throat drop into my stomach giving me a stomach ache. He sat down and opened it and started to read the long letter. I waited for him to finish. While I waited, I felt pissed off. Pissed that my parents have the nerve to write to my husband in the first place. Who do they think they are talking to him. You can't talk to him if you don't talk to me.

I was half afraid to read the letter. But I did. I teared up half way through. Mostly at the parts about how they love me very much no matter what. Or the parts where my mom said that I was a very giving and loving person, so much so that sometimes I didn't know when to say "no". I sort of chuckled at that part because it was so me, and how did my mom know I was that way??

By the end of the letter I was just numb again. I vented a little, and then I just turned it off. It told me to give up. It told me that they really wouldn't ever meet Gibson. It told me that they appreciated the gifts, but I wouldn't be sending anymore. It told me to be numb again. And so I am.