Bad = Heavy

Out of all of the wonderful things that happened in my child hood and in my life in general, I am certain more good than bad has happened. Yet, the bad wieghs more. The bad is heavier, it has always taken the front seat, center stage in my life. Why is that? When I do things with my son, like sledding, or snuggling; I often wonder, what will he look back on and remember? I also think, didn't my parents do any of these things with me? If they did, I only remember a couple of times if any, and the bad certainly out wieghed the good. My grandparents did do those things and more with me, but still, I remember the bad times clearly and the good times are a hazy vague memory.

I get glimpses of the good past I had, here and there when I experience different things with Gavin, but now that my Gram is gone, I wish I could clearly remember it all. More importantly, I wish I had been able to enjoy it better when it was happening. Instead I let my profound anger cheat myself out of the good memories. Now that I am almost thirty, I have spent the better part of the last five years trying to de-bitter myself. I have always blamed my parents, and they definately should take some blame, but I am responsible for carrying that anger for most of my life and not being able to let it go. Anger is heavy. Anger is unbelievably heavy and hard to let go of. I think little by little I am learning how, through my son's eyes.

When I see how Gavin sees, I remember the good things I experienced at his age, and how I felt when I did. I have to remind myself that my parenting isn't about doing it differently, it isn't about me, it's not about being the best mom on earth. It is about Gavin and when I had him my priorities needed to become about him. So when I have those self centered moments I have to reground myself. When I want to do the opposite of what my parents would have done, I have to look at him and remind myself. Its about him, not me, or any one else.

I know that Gavin's child hood has been remarkably different than mine, and he should not doubt for one second my love for him, but will the good out wiegh the bad? When he is thirty will he blog about how much I sucked as a mother?? I hope not.