The Music Is Back!

Some of you who actually know me may remember that I have been a musician for most of life, about 45 years.  I am a well-trained flutist who won many awards and even had a full university music scholarship (which I chose not to take at the time, but that's another story.)  I even remember about 20 years ago, when I switched careers and started making serious money, my first splurge was to buy the flute that I had always wanted my whole life.  And all of the music that I could possibly want.  It always brought me great joy.

But what most of you don't know is that starting about five years ago, when my mental illness became so severe, I lost my ability to have music in my life.  Yes, I could still play.  I never lost that.  Even the muscle memory couldn't be eliminated.  But playing music, even listening to music of any kind, made me incredibly sad.  I don't know why.  Especially since so many people with mental health issues, especially anxiety, use music as a distraction.  But not so for me.  It has been a heartache for me that I can't seem to get past.  I've tried playing, listening to all genres in different environments, but always with the same depressing results.

Fast forward to now.  With Logan (my precious grandson) now 3 1/2 months old, I decided to start playing music on my phone with him when I'm watching him.  We started out just listening to see how we would both react.  He loved it!  Then I started singing along with the music (kids music, classic rock, pop, whatever), and I've always been a horrible singer (even though I can play, I can't sing worth a damn.)  We then progressed to dancing and singing to the music, with him lying on the blanket next to me, and me moving his arms and legs and hands and feet to the music while singing.  He loves it and smiles and laughs and doesn't care that Grammy can't sing worth a damn.

For some reason, this little man has given me back something that was always such a huge part of my life.  I still don't play or listen on my own, but it's become part of our evening routine to play music and sing and dance before bedtime.  It means so much to me.  And it's all thanks to him.  He makes me smile which is such a rare thing for me.

Maybe eventually I'll be able to start playing and listening to music again outside of doing so with him, but for now I'm just happy to have it back in my life.  Who knew what a little baby inside your heart could do to mend the pain?

The Others...Gone But Never Forgotten

I don’t know why I feel compelled to write this story today.  What may turn into a novel.  For those of you who know me, you know that I have my baby girl, my Angel Face, my Kassi, who is my daughter and best friend at 25 years old.  And, of course you know of her baby, my precious grandson, Logan, who is the light of my world.  What you may not know is about…The Others.

See, I have two older children, and between them five (at least) grandchildren, who I don’t know.  My older daughter, Brianna, is 32 and has a daughter named Cali.  I also have a son, Jordan, who is 30, who has at least four children named Hayden, Zeke, Ambelina and Sterling (maybe, I’m not sure).  He may have more.  I don’t know most of their ages or birthdays, except my oldest granddaughter, Hayden, who is going to be nine this year, as I have her name and birthdate tattooed on my leg from when she was born.

But these are “The Others”, “The Lost Ones”.  Lost, but never forgotten by me.  Up until 2012, when Kassi was still so young, Bri was my best friend.  Jordan was always troubled with mental health issues of his own, but we were still close.  They were both married by then with new children.  That was when my real downward spiral started with my own mental health issues so a lot of that year is a blur.

The one thing I do know is that I love all of them, and not a day goes by that I don’t think of them with love and pain and hurt and questions and even some resentment.  See, about 6 ½ years ago, they all left me.  All but Kassi, who hung in there with the strongest love and commitment and dedication to her mother, through the hard times and now the good.  But Bri and Jordan took their families and themselves out of my life.  To this day I don’t know exactly why.  I know there were some issues, but not exactly what they were.  I know I made some mistakes, but not exactly what they were, but apparently they were unforgivable.  That was 6 ½ years ago.  My pleas of reaching out in every possible way were ignored and disregarded.  My love was not reciprocated.  The only response, if any, were a couple of short missives to stay out of their lives, that I was toxic and not wanted and would never hear from them again.

It broke my heart and continues to break my heart every day.  That is probably why I hold Kassi and Logan so close, maybe too close, to my heart every minute.  Because they are my salvation and my only chance to make up for all of my many failures.  Plus I just love them so very, very much.  They give me value where I feel none is really deserved.  They give me unconditional love that I don’t feel entitled to but am so grateful for.

With Brianna, there has been really no contact in those 6 ½ years.  I tried for so long to reach out to her to no avail.  The only contact I had with her was when her sister got married almost four years ago, and that was just a brief email (where she called me Tracy, not Mom), and told me not to speak to or even acknowledge her at Kassi’s wedding.  I have no pictures of her or her baby girl to hold on to.  And with her I don’t really have any answers as to the why or the how.  She just cut me off without a single thought.  My first born.  Something I never thought could happen.  And that has been it for so long.

With Jordan, there was sporadic communication and visits for a couple of years but nothing for the last 4 ½ years when there were some issues that came up.  During those sporadic periods, I did get to know a couple of my grandchildren a little and loved them, but they were also ripped away from me many years ago.

I was never a perfect mother, far from it.  I made mistakes.  But unforgivable?  I guess so.  But there are parts that I don’t understand.  First of all, their biological father, David, gave up his parental rights to Bri and Jordan when they were 8 and 6.  He said he didn’t want to be a father anymore and wanted Kassi’s biological dad, Ray, to adopt them.  David didn’t want anything to do with them and cut them out of his life completely for many, many years with no contact.  I hated this for them, but Ray tried to step in.  At least until Ray and I divorced, when he basically abandoned all three of the kids, even Kassi, but especially Bri and Jordan who he no longer acknowledged as being legally his children even though his name is on their birth certificates.  Ray and Kassi still have a semi-close relationship, but it is far from what it should be.  I hurt for her and for them.  I supported and raised these children, with the help of my mother, with no assistance from David or Ray.

At one point, when Brianna and Jordan were mid-teens, David got in touch and decided that he wanted to communicate with them.  I never stood in their way, even though he legally had no right to them.  I let the kids make the decision.  He saw them twice, then accused them of stealing from him and didn’t see or speak to them again for years.  But then, somehow, when they were grown, he got back into their lives, and all of the past with him abandoning them was forgotten and forgiven, and to this day I think they have good relationships with him, although I’m not positive of the details.

Apparently, my faults were many and were worse than those of David, since he was allowed back in their lives around the time that I was dismissed and rejected.  It’s still a bitter pill to swallow.

And to top it off, these two kids (adults) have even cut off people who love them simply because they are a part of my life, specifically my mother, their grandmother, who helped raise them.  She certainly never did anything to them except to love them and cherish them as I tried to do.  Jordan even cut Kassi out of his life after a few years, although Bri and Kassi keep in touch.  I know that Bri and Jordan still have relationships with other people in my family, but I do not ask about them, and they are under orders to never talk to me about them or they will be cut off too, and I don’t want those relationships damaged because of me.  That would just be more guilt to carry.  Is there anything more guilt-inducing than a mother causing her children to no longer love her?

While I have given up hope of ever hearing from or seeing them ever again, I do hold a small hope that maybe I will live long enough for my grandchildren to grow and maybe I can get in touch with them and let them know that I have always loved and longed for them, especially Hayden and show her my old tattoo.  But by then they will never have known me and may not want to.

So while I am so lucky to have Kassi and Logan as such an integral part of my life, there will always be a tiny part of my heart that is broken for “The Others.”  The missing ones who are forever missed by their mother and grandmother.  These are not children.  They are adults in their 30s who made their decisions in their 20s and will not ever change their minds.  Maybe their children will someday want to know me.  I don’t know and don’t hold out much hope for that.  But maybe.

That is the story.  The story I cry about with my therapist every time I see her.  The thing that I will never get over.  The thing that broke my heart and can never be repaired.  The shame I live with.  I must have been one hell of a mother.  Kassi does everything she can to be everything to me, and she is.  She gives me all the love and support and compassion and understanding that I could ever need.  She is the best daughter in the world, and has given me the best thing I could ever want, a loving bond with my grandson, who I will always cherish.  Are there days when I worry that I will do something to fuck up those relationships and lose both of them, too?  Yeah.  My biggest fear in life.  I try to be worthy of their love of me and be there for them and show them how much they mean to me.  The fear of abandonment is real, but Kassi reassures me all the time that she would never do that to me, and I believe her.  She is not that kind of person.

So I live with the unknown of why and how.  I don’t question people in my life who do know “The Others” out of fear for their own relationships should something slip.  But I think about them every day and love them and miss them every day.  And wish there was some way to mend the hole in my heart every day.  But I have to try to accept.  After so many years, I have not yet learned to do that.  Maybe I never will.  I accept the blame, but a mother’s love knows no end, at least not to me.  And now you have the story of “The Others.”