Community

It's been over a year since I've posted anything here.  This site used to be where I processed the horrific end of my marriage and the battles that ensued afterward.  The battles continued but the blog died away.  Partly because I was so worn out with my own story that I didn't want to reiterate any part of what was happening.  Writing it down solidified it happening.  I was exhausted.  And now four and half years later, I am still exhausted.  The same stories are happening.  The same battles rage on and I still experience the same heartbreak for my children.

But there have been new stories.  There have been new beginnings and new endings.  I have been sad and happy about many other things.  I have figured out that I am most definitely not a christian.  I have wrestled with my ability to be ok with that, and live with the persecution that has ensued.  I have the same friends that still love me even though they have all moved away.  Their commitment to me can attest to how amazing they are.  I'm an adult now; for reals.  I have purpose and drive that actually has a plan to back up all the dreaming.

So today is about what has been heavy on my heart this week.  I haven't had my kids this Thanksgiving break because they have been with their dad.  Without my kids I struggle with knowing who I am.  Take away my children, take away my running, my work, my school, my family, and who am I?  So much of who I am and what I believe is so confusing.  It is contradictory and impossible to explain.  I feel guilty for disagreeing with my own engrained ideas.  So much was weird in the way that I was raised and that is ok.  But so much of it, weird or not, has created the monster I am today.  I was raised in community.  We were all one big family.  The loyalty was fierce.  Thanksgiving was our biggest holiday and the warmth and love I felt on that day as a child is indescribable.  I had many mothers.  I had many many siblings.  And most of them were not my blood.  Everyone was always there.  When one of our families made bread, we all got a loaf.  When one of our families had zucchini, we all had equal amounts.  Costco was never done alone.  Community-cult; whatever you want to call it, it was beautiful and I loved it.  As I got older I started to realize that it was weird to people.   I spread my wings I realized that it was a rare thing.

And now here I am.  Thirty one years old; missing desperately my community; feeling so alone on this holiday week because it is no longer what I remember.  I don't have that same warm feeling.  No one is making a community soup with Thanksgiving leftovers.

So I had an epiphany.  I've spent the last 13 years of my adulthood mourning the loss of the community I had as a child.  I keep on expecting this magical community to form and it doesn't.  People do their own things and they should!  So next year I've decided to host Thanksgiving.  Nothing will be what it was before.  I need to get over it.  It's gone.  I'm going to make my home my own version of community.  Not just for the Holiday, but for life.  I'm going to open my doors to my family yes, but also those that don't have anywhere to go.  It's time to be an adult and be someone else's community. It's time to show my kids what that looks like.  It's not going to look like my childhood community, but I can take the good things that I loved, and do my best to BE that for others.  I can't expect others to be that for me.  I end up terribly hurt.
How can I be a better friend or family member?   How can I love those I love better?  I guess being a grown up means it's no longer about me.