Last month, I was sorting through a few things in our guest bedroom. Nine years ago, I shoved so much stuff in the closets to get it off the floor that the doors barely close. Some of it has just been shuffled from one shelf to another or from one closet to another. I donated boxes and boxes of books. I also have a little donation library I added in front of the house that has helped purge the books. While I was going through things, I came across a scrapbook that I made back in 2006, one year after hurricane Katrina. We had traveled down to Baton Rouge and New Orleans to visit family.
I made a scrapbook with family photos from the 1960s, 1970s and present day. The boys’ great-grandmother’s house before and after Katrina. They dad, aunts and uncles with their parents. Their grandparents with their family. I even inserted an article about the rebuilding of a family restaurant after Katrina. Pictures of the boys at the eatery. Just a neat little look back into family history.
As I looked through the pages, I realized that other than my own children, none of these people were my family any longer. We haven’t kept in touch since that day. I asked Sean if he wanted the scrapbook and he told me that he did not want it. His grandfather always liked my scrapbooks and would purchase scrapbooking items for me. I asked Sean if he thought it would be okay if I sent it to his grandfather. I even let him read the note that I put in the package.
I put love into that scrapbook when I made it. I had no idea that 10 years later the people in the photos wouldn’t be part of my life. I decided to go ahead and mail it off. I did not know how it would be received, but I knew that it was something he and his wife would probably like.
As I drove to the post office, I said a little prayer that it would be received in the spirit in which it was intended. I’m not trying to reconnect with anyone or anything of that nature. These are not my people. I have a closet full of scrapbooks. Most of them are of my own children and my own family. They are not organized– they are still in a pile in the closet. One day, maybe I will come across their family reunion scrapbook I made or the one from the boys’ great-grandmother’s 80th birthday. I’m not going to search them out, but if I come across them, maybe I’ll send them off to someone. My own children are not interested in my scrapbooks. <laughter>
This simple act of shipping off the scrapbook that I knew they would enjoy was healing for me. I think it is the first time that I consciously said to myself, “These are not your people. These people are not your family, why are you hanging on?” When you have ‘family’ in your life for over 26 years, it’s not easy to let go. I thought of them as parents to me. They were family and when I was abandoned, I lost a family, too. I am writing this without ANY tears. It has been nine years and I understand just where I stand and know that I am not and was not family.
This was very healing for me. Being able to let go of scrapbooks that I made and loved…… is a pretty big step. I have thousands of pictures that are not in scrapbooks, too. Nothing is organized. I keep saying that I am going to get back into scrapbooking, but the truth is that my stuff has been so disorganized for nine years now that it literally overwhelms me to scrapbook or make cards. Everything else other than my crafting supplies and scrapbooks has been normal for many, many years. It’s the last room.
When I arrived home from Oregon, there was a letter in the mail. A thank you note. It made me smile to know that this small gesture of kindness was happily received. Those two people will never be family again, but they were part of my life for almost three decades. The memories are real and there were many good times. It’s hard to let go of people that you once loved as family.
The sad truth about divorce is that lives are intertwined forever. Even if one doesn’t want them to be. My children will always be his children. My children will always be their grandchildren. We are connected whether we want to be or not. My therapist always says that when you have kids you aren’t divorced from someone, you are divorced to them. Let that sink in.
I’m not planning on going through any more closets anytime soon, but this was a healing step. If you had asked me before this happened if there was anything else left to do to aid the healing process, I would have told you that there was not. I would have told you that the hurt will always be there. Little did I know that mailing a scrapbook and receiving a thank you would actually mend parts of my heart I didn’t even know were still hurting.
In other news, I’ve let work get in the way of my fitness goals again. Boo. It’s hard to work full time, travel AND get your fitness goals accomplished. My days start between 4-5am and many evenings, I’m still working at 6pm. Carving time out for exercise needs to be a priority again. I do well for a month or so, then I slip. I do not have it in me to get up at 3am to do a workout.
My biggest hurdle is making myself stop working on the days I am able to just do it. I often feel guilty if I take an hour during the day to workout. Even though our president encourages us to take the time to read, exercise and make sure we have a work-life balance. He says when we exercise our give ourselves time to think that we often think of our best ideas. We also come back to work
I’m going public with my desire to have a better work-life balance! Marty and I know that if we want to make it through the 100 mile wilderness next year, that we HAVE to get some big miles in. Currently, I only have 2,013 miles in so far this year. oof. Somewhere between work and sleep, I need to make more time to get the miles in. Hold me accountable.
My Little Red Bike 