Are Hearts Made to be Broken?

How old were you when you first had your heart broken?

How old do you expect your little girl to be when She first has Her heart broken?

One thing about parenting that I don’t especially like is when at 5ish they start having experiences in the world beyond My influence. The go to school. They get dropped off at activities. They go on playdates without Mom. And they hear stuff. They might *gasp* hear a “bad word”. Some evil negligent parent might feed them a GMO laden Pop Tart. They might watch a scary movie. And You won’t know. Ack, scary stuff I tell you!

It’s also at this age that their friend relationships move out of mom’s control. They are learning how to possibly interact with a bossy friend. Or a friend who “flat leaves” them for someone better. How to be diplomatic. How to judge a situation they maybe should leave.

Sigh. It happened. I didn’t see it coming. She had her little love-filled heart torn out of her chest & stomped on. And in front of another soul-mate-ish friend. And their (interloping, other) BFF.

The good thing is the Heart Breaker didn’t do it maliciously. I’m pretty sure she meant no ill will at all. I suspect that she doesn’t even know what my daughter was so upset (SO UPSET) about. She was happy to appease Addis & carry on the friendship.

But I feel like a line has been crossed. Now when she hears a story (or sees it in a movie) about a Friend Gone Bad, she Knows. She gets it. She feels the tragedy. She knows that someone she loved openly can crush her in an instant without a second thought. I wish she didn’t have to live in That World for a little bit longer!
A&Tiana14

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2013

At the beginning of 2013, I said “here’s hoping THIS year doesn’t suck”.

And, in comparison, it didn’t.

But, lemme tell ya, I’d define this year as “Loss”.

My Mom died early in 2011. A year and a half later my Dad died. (both of these deaths occurred unexpectedly after a brief illness.) Yes, there were people who reached out to me. People that checked up on me. And I appreciate them for doing so.

But I have been heartbroken by my oldest daughter leaving. I want her here. I want our family together. I want her to take my son with her when she does an errand, or goes with a friend for a late-night ice cream. I want her to make his first girlfriend feel comfortable at our home. I want my little daughter to cuddle in bed with her, to eat “sister soup” for breakfast, to paint nails with. I want her to be there when my little one comes home from school to show off her art work. I don’t want her having a serious boyfriend that I might not ever meet. I don’t want her squeezing in a skype call if she can when she’s having Christmas with some family I don’t know.

Add to that having a close meaningful friendship fall apart. This is a friend who we used to have holidays with, who we’ve vacationed with, and we were each other’s “go to” person when we’d have a crisis. Although we are both making overtures of friendship to each other, we’ll never be the friends we used to be. And now that I have a young child again, that friend isn’t available for me to drop my little one off for an hour while I run out to do some chore. I can’t send her over there to show off her newly pierced ears. She won’t be on Addis’ “emergency contact” form when she goes to Kindergarten next year.

 

Feeling lonely and heartbroken.

Karma, are you listening?

I was taking a nap. The little girl down the street came by, all excited, & said I needed to come out & meet the new girl. She was also 4.

Or so the story goes.

Yes, I do “remember” the meeting. I think. Maybe. Actually, sometimes when an event gets a “story” I think the story eventually takes over until the story IS the memory. Added to that, there is a picture from when we were 4 or 5 (or 6?) facing each other, holding hands, & smiling. I know it isn’t from that first day, but it is what I picture of it. …I’m getting off-course…

We’ve gone through periods when we didn’t communicate much, and living 2,500 miles apart the last 20 years hasn’t helped. But she still, after 36 years, is still who wears the label of Best Friend. I have a few really good friends. Friends who I can confide in, friends who I can call for anything, friends who have seen me at my worst & think it makes a great story! But how many Best Friends does one get in life? Two? Three if you’re reeeeally lucky?

I hope there’s such a thing as Karma, because Karma has some explaining to do. My friend’s childhood left a lot to be desired. That’s her story to tell, not mine, so I won’t get into it…but believe me when I say she was missing out on some sunshine. And, her adult-hood hasn’t been what you’d call spectacular either. If there’s  a short stick to be grabbed, consider it her’s. Besides the multitude of obstacles & BS thrown her way, it has also been up to Her to keep her family afloat. She’s the sole bread-winner of the family. She spent years working 2 jobs to do it. And, when finally afforded an opportunity to improve her lot, it gave way after she worked her ass off to get it. Her husband is disabled, with a very painful disease which has robbed her family of a “normal” life.

And yet, she still plays the part of being a Ray of Sunshine to others. When my mom was dying, she sent no less than 4 cards to my parents. And months later she sent my dad a letter which he appreciated. When my family had a reunion last summer, I jokingly told her that I assumed she would be there….and she was. It wasn’t easy for her to pull off, it meant leaving her disabled husband for a week & driving hundreds of miles…and, she was unemployed. She goes out of her way to make people laugh, even if it’s at her expense. She cares for people that no one else cares about, and acts as an advocate on their behalf. She mails people handwritten notes, or maybe donuts, just to improve their day. How she keeps it up is beyond my understanding.

I truly hope & pray that good things are coming her way. If anyone deserved it, it is her. And I hope she knows that she is one of my favorite people.

Karma, don’t be a Bitch.

these pics are Her’s…I don’t think she’ll mind!