Soul stew..

When I was a kid, whenever we went on long car trips, there was a soundtrack. This was in the dark ages, well before playlists and Pandora.

The soundtrack consisted of three tapes. Graceland By Paul Simon, Dire Straits, and ultimate 70’s Atlantic Rhythm and Blues. The song on my mind comes from the r&b tape.

 

My son and I are spending the night at my parents house.

I am soul stew at the moment.

I am delighted that I got to hold Niece for the first time and begin bonding with her today. I am loving the fact that my kids got to spend time together today and that both of them got to hold Niece and begin bonding with her today as well.

My parents are away on a camping trip, which is why I chose this night of the nights that Sister, Sister’s Boyfriend and Niece are here for Son and I to spend the night, because things are still difficult and awkward between me and my parents for multiple varied reasons that may or may not be fodder for another post at some later date.

Husband is sick right now, as I mentioned in another post. He is insisting upon letting the VA Hospital, in my admittedly not unbiased opinion, MISHANDLE his care so he is suffering with apparent pancreatitis, known kidney problems, known diabetes and high blood pressure and no real treatment for it?!?

This pisses me off and scares me more than I can even really blog about.

I am in awe of watching Sister be a mom. She is really good at it and so in love with Niece. It has changed her in so many ways, yet she is still clearly Sister, which is amazing and interesting. It as deepened our bond as sisters, because being a mother changes you and brings things out in you and now, having both gone through that change we have whole new depths to the common ground. In recent years, I’ve felt so incredibly different from her and her lifestyle that I didn’t feel I deserved the title of her sister. Now, in finding common ground as mothers, I am overjoyed to find that I am not as radically different from her as I led myself to believe.

This makes my heart sing.

When I told Husband we would probably spend the night and asked Son if he wanted to say goodnight prayers with his dad before we left just in case Husband led in such a prayer that made it abundantly clear to me that Husband does not trust me to return home with his son.

This simultaneously enrages me, makes me feel guilty and hurts my heart.

Sister and the baby are sleeping in my brother’s old room. I realized, not for the first time, that the only way Niece will know the amazing person of John is through pictures and his artwork and writing.

That hurts and saddens me and freshens grief

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