First of all - for folks who frequently skim messages - please skip this one. You will almost need to read the whole rambly thing for it to make sense...so just move on by and don't worry about skipping this one.
Polly - your message about big hugs was the first thing I saw after getting off the phone w/ my mom - let me tell you - I needed those hugs. I feel like I lose a little bit more of my mom with every weekly call...I think I had to tell her 10 times that she'd already bought me my Christmas present (baklava for me - cheese for Art)...and that it arrived today. I hate Saturdays sometimes 'cause that's when she likes me to call - and we talk for 1-2 hours...but we usually have the same conversations over and over and over again - without her realizing it.
Flashy - I've been thinking a lot about things and I'm going to type a lot here. I was going to just pm it to you - but I found myself thinking, "What if someone else is struggling and feels the same way??"...so I'm posting some things in my blog.
You asked me what Tiny gave me - and I can tell you some of it - but in order for it to make sense...I need to start way way back years ago. Hence the long message.
Over the last 4-5 years, I've come to realize just how dysfunctional my adopted mom's family was. They never talked to each other (the kids even) except to say things like, "Dad wants you to do this.." or "Mom wants you to do that..". They rarely played together - and my mom said she can never remember hearing her mom or dad telling her that they loved her when she was growing up. (She did hear it from her mom years later...but the attitude was, 'You should know I Love you....look at all I did for you..").
Mom & dad adopted me when I was about 1...and I was the only child. Till he left mom when I was 15 - dad was busy almost all the time and I rarely saw him. He worked nights, weekends, etc. (or so we were told - turned out later he had someone else in his life).
So mom raised me - mostly alone. In addition - she didn't have her mom or family to really talk to - because we lived in Connecticut and they lived in Northern Maine.
By the way - my adopted mom is the firstborn...they tend to be overachievers.
I say all this to say - my mom may have told me she loved me - but I was never "good enough" for her. She was raised in a day in age where children were to be "seen and not heard" - quite literally. They would have to sit on a bench in the hallway when her parents went to visit her grandma....not talking the whole time.
I think part of mom's mindset came from the fact that because I was adopted - for those first few years of my life - the state could have taken me from her....so she was always afraid that I wouldn't be good enough...and she didn't want them to take me from her. In addition - she felt like she had to raise me to be "perfect" pretty much - because she was raising someone else's child...and what if they met me years later and were disappointed?
One sad thing is - Mom and I have such different personalities - we're about as opposite as people can be. For instance - I can't stand to wear shoes or slippers (same as my birthmom) - but mom saw that as me being rebellious. I never cared for her furniture or style of decorating...that was rebellious too. (Imagine my shock when I walked into my birthmom's house and saw she had the same Home Interiors figurines and paintings I loved...).
Some memories in particular stand out in my mind....one was when I went back to college after getting married and I got all A's and B's...but in particular - an A in Accounting (mom was a bookkeeper). Mom's comment? "Why didn't you do that before?" (I had been studying science and was flunking out).
Another one is when I went home this year for Mother's Day...and her first comments were "You need to lose 30 pounds before you come home for another visit..".
Gee..thanks Mom.
I have no doubt my mom loves me - please don't take me wrong. But - I have never performed up to her expectations. Now that I know more about her family history - I understand that - as the only time she received attention was if she performed well at something.
So what does that have to do with Tiny? Well - I'd had Tiny for several months when I did the unthinkable....I shook him. He'd gotten in a fight with another buck (we realized later he had put up his paws to get the buck off his head and his nails had been what hurt the bucks' penis...he wound up losing a bit of it). I lost my temper and picked up Tiny and yelled him and shook him (not hard - but enough to scare both myself and him).
I almost rehomed him after that day. I couldn't believe what I had done. Another rabbit person called me and we talked (she knew I was upset) and she explained to me (after she knew I was calmed down) about the consequences of my actions and how I needed to watch Tiny for stasis.
Needless to say - Tiny was upset by this and for the next...I don't know - week - or maybe longer - he sat a distance from me and watched me. I tried to talk to him - I begged and pleaded (from a distance) for him to forgive me....but I also knew he was scared of me.
You have to understand - he had seen me at my very very worst. I could not believe the way I'd yelled at him - the things I'd said. I couldn't believe I'd shaken him.
I don't remember how long after this it was - but he chose - of his own free will - to come see me. He hopped in my lap and let me pet him. I sat there and cried for...I don't know how long. All I know is I remember that moment.
You see - in spite of seeing me at my very worst - he chose to trust me. He forgave me - and over time - he showed me how much he loved me in return.
When I think of the term "unconditional love" - I think of Tiny...of his forgiveness of me - of his love for me.
Once he forgave me - its like he chose to never look back at that ugly side of me again....he decided to risk it all by loving me...even though I'd abused him.
When I was upset - I could talk to him - and he wouldn't try to change me or cheer me up. He'd just listen - let me cry in his fur if need be - and then look at me as if to say, "Can I groom out the tears now?" and start grooming himself. If I had to cry some more...I'd do that and he'd just patiently wait till I was done.
As many of you know - I have a wonderful husband and we've been together 29 years. But when I need to cry - Art doesn't "get it". He thinks its his job to "make me better" by getting me to laugh - or telling me to "get over it". He doesn't understand that sometimes - I just have to cry - to get it out. He was brought up in a family where crying was a weakness...something you didn't do.
So Tiny was the only one who loved me for me (in spite of my many flaws) and also was willing to let me be me and cry if I needed to. He accepted me with my strengths and weaknesses - he appreciated what I could give him - and didn't ask for more - and just loved me.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm not crying for what Tiny gave me or did for me - I'm crying for what he was to me - for who he was.
I don't mean to offend the non-religious with this next part .. but here goes.
Since I've been little - the one thing I've often held onto is that God loves me - no matter what. I know I disappoint Him at times....but I am assured of His love for me. A few years ago, I came to realize that I didn't have to "earn" His love and that what I didn't wouldn't change His love an iota....because His love for me wasn't based upon my performance - but upon His character and who He is.
It was like Tiny was that love - put in fur - so that I could feel God's love at times when I felt inadequate. He was "God with flesh on" as some people call it.
We talk about my fear of succeeding...and I've been thinking about that a lot. There are some things I have succeeded at...others I really really struggle with. Homemaking is a big one that I struggle with - for several reasons.
- I didn't really get lots of help/training in homemaking. Mom kept a nice house - but I didn't do much other than dust and a few other things.
- I have so much JUNK - some of which I think I might keep because it makes me feel good about myself or about some part of me. For instance - we probably have over 2,000 books at least - some of which are just there 'cause I think they make me look smart (I can't explain it...but its like smart people read these books). I am already thinking about going through the books and getting rid of a bunch and keeping the ones that have meaning to me. Same thing with videos and dvds and stuff like that. A lot of what holds me back is the clutter...
- I don't have good time management skills - plus I'm addicted to the internet and spend way too much time (on posts like this)
- It isn't fun.
So many more things come to my mind - but I think I best quit now.
So Flashy - that is why Tiny meant so much to me - and why I struggle so much.
The thing is - when I used to meet with my counselor - I talked about the house - several times - about the need to set goals, etc. But it never went anywhere - its almost like for her the topic was easy (to take care of her house) - so she couldn't understand my struggles.
By the time I quit going to counseling (we had agreed I didn't need it) - the only real thing I was struggling with...was housework - and she wished me well.
I hope this long post has made some sort of sense...
