So everyone knows that Kieth and I had our 6th anniversary earlier this month, right? I mean, its not like we tried to burn down our house or anything like that.
And pretty much everyone that reads this blog knows about the many issues I have with my parent's religion.
So I have finally moved on from the feelings this post inspired, and then I get an email from my mother. Five days AFTER my anniversary. *WM means Wal-Mart*
happy 6th anniversary.hope you are doing, ok we are. i quit W M. am working with Dad. stress level is way down. am happier, have time to play in my garden. going to columbia,mo for assembly in aug.
These few sentences tell me so very much. The date tells me my parents still don't have internet at home, my mom had to go to the library to send me this email. It tells me that my mom probably had to sneak out to the library to use the internet. And it tells me that they weren't even in town the beginning of June (so they weren't ignoring me after all).
After many days of deliberation, I finally found a way to tell my mom how hurt I was, hopefully without being to mean about it.
I'm so glad you're happy and less stressed! Everyone is doing fine up here, Josie is now 13 months old and walking all over the place. Matthew will be four in August (I swear, I just brought him home yesterday!). Keith has a really awesome job with *****, the *** company. I'm still staying at home with the kids right now, most days I love it, some days they drive me crazy.
I must say, though, that I was very hurt and upset when you didn't call to see your grandchildren during the assembly here in Kansas City. I had no way of knowing that you weren't here, but I do keep track of things that are going on in the religion. I know when the assemblies are (I even know most of what is talked about at the assemblies), I know about the new Watchtower formats, and all the new rules the Governing Body has imposed upon you all.
I'm not stupid, but I also can't read your mind to know which assembly you attend, so you not calling during the assembly up here really hurt me, mostly because you're denying my children the chance to get to know you. And you are a wonderful person, a person worthy of being known.
And sadly, I don't really know you, not who you were when you were younger. I don't know what hopes and dreams you had, I don't know many stories of your youth, and I don't know what makes you tick.
All I know is that you have let Dad (another person worthy of being known) guilt everyone in the family into not having any contact with me or your sister. I know that you sneak away about once a year to have lunch with your sister. I know that you probably had to sneak away to the library just to email me.
I sit here in tears because I hurt so much. I hurt for myself, I hurt for my children, and I hurt for you and dad.
I, too, am worthy of being known, and so are my children. But you don't know who I am anymore. You don't know my dreams, for me or my children, and you never ask.
Love is not a feeling, Mom, Love is an action. Love is an email, love is a phone call, love is a letter, love is a hug, and love is being there for your children when they need you.
When I needed you most, you were denied me, and you were denied being here for me.
Sad what the rules of 9-12 men in Brooklyn who run a publishing company have done to our lives, isn't it?
I've seen their version of love first hand, and quite honestly, want absolutely nothing to do with it ever again. I have something more precious. I have UNCONDITIONAL love. It's absolutely amazing.
I wish it would actually make a difference in how they treat me, but, truly, I'm not holding my breath. Nothing will change until my father is gone. And that in and of itself makes me sad.