I wasn't going to create a post today - too much else to do I suppose. But, having five minutes spare at the beginning of the day, I thought I'd check my e-mails. In there was the subscription list for my Xanaga friends.
In there was the latest posting from Angeldreams.
In it she beautifully (I couldn't quite find the right word for what I felt) describes her feelings and emotion at both losing her Mum, and then the the further loss of her memories when she moved away from the home.
I have copied across the posting (I hope this is OK with you dear Angeldreams?)
The latest from AngelsDream's Xanga Site!
Well.. I really didn't have anything to blog about tonight. But then I came across this blog Guisseppe .
And it brought back my own memories of when my dad sold the house I grew up in after he married my 1st step-mother (aka: the wicked witch, and evil bitch)....
Some of you may know how my mom died of cancer when I was 15. It was completely unexpected as she had been declared to be in remission. But she got a cold and died of respiratory failure as a result.
Even now some 12 years later it still hurts. Deeply. Even more so when my dad married my ex-step mom less than a year after my mom's death. Then he gives me the biggest blow. We are going to be moving almost 100 miles away. Away from my childhood home, friends that I had known since Kindergarten. I was taken away from my whole life, so it seemed.
I remember bits and pieces of moving. I remember my car that I paid for was taken away from me. I remember the wicked witch critizing the way my mother had decorated the house.
**Just to note.. we had a 4 bedroom, 3 bath, cathedral ceilings in the den, home in the country on 34 acres with a pond, horse barn that had 7 horses**** I loved my home. We built it when I was 6 months old. My baby footprints are embeded in the concrete by the door. My intials are craved in a tree along with a life long friend of mine.
That house held so many memories for me.. It was my one way of still being able to be close to my mom. It still smelled like her. It was my comfort. And then it was snatched away. All in the span of a week.
In a week's time... we moved out, moved to a bumfuck town, I was moved into this tiny house, where nothing was my own, I knew no one, and i fit in like a sore thumb.
Not to be rude or sound conceited but I was a little rich girl. And in this town, that stuck out. I was sent to a public school when my whole life I was sent to private college prep schools. I was uncomfortable there. I had to end up taking the same classes I took in 7th grade my sophmore year b/c the public school didn't recognize my transfer credits.
I felt trapped by it all. Trapped by the people around me. I spent most of my time with head phones glued to my head. With the sounds of Metallica, Cinderella, Motley Crue and the like pouring through. I think that was the only way I survived living there.. Music was my saving grace then.
I don't really know why that one post made me remember that time in my life. I mean it was 12 years ago.. I guess that is what they mean by scarred for life..... Funny how when memories come rollling back they come in landslides... "
Reading this brought back memories of my Dad. He could be a right miserable devil. But he was my Dad, and I loved him. He loved my Mum.They were married for a very long time.He loved his kids and his Grand kids and we had to watch him die over a long time. He had heart troubles for a long time, but he was managing them. But the it was the cancer. What died was not my Dad. What was left was not my Dad.
I have tears in my eyes now. And that hasn't happened for a very long time. I am lucky. I still have my Mum, My Family. The House where we lived is still my Mum's home. My Dad is buried only a mile away.
I can't imagine the pain of being ripped away from your memories. I only know of the pain I still have in my heart.
Angelsdream is right of course - it funny the things that start you remembering.
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