I am with heavy heart. And those are the most fitting words I could find to describe it, however melodramatic they sound.
Two brothers are on my mind. Three brothers, actually. What makes one choose right and another choose wrong? Or is there a "what" that makes one be one way and the other another at all? Is there something that I can take note of here? Is there some trigger, some instigator? I hesitate to say I know, for while I think I just might know, I also think I might be wrong. So, I journal and journal- and still no answers. And still so much heaviness and frustration. And wonderings of why and what if and why again.
There's the part I don't understand because I was brought up so differently... Everything was open and honest, even if it were painful or hurtful. With its stings, with its closeness- and in the end, I find it worth it. Even though my familial life was full of strain and revenge and selfishness.
For there are precious few relationships that have the opportunity of being so close, full and secure with a bond so dear, and the knowledge that there are a handful who truly know who you really are. And they love you despite and they love you because.
But so many miss it; they don't know the ones closest to them. How few thoughts of depth are shared and how little they are a part of each other's lives. Do they even know their roles? I don't understand not knowing a sister- mother- father. I don't and I never will. Because family means close; it means open and honest; it means a deep relationship, to me. I think it makes a difference. I think it really does make a difference in conversations, support, questions and answers, choices and challenges, advising and inquiring.
The problems cease to exist. But, it seems that they the problems are different. And how they are handled. So much is affected by what takes place before the problems present themselves. So much is there before they even begin. And that closeness...
I think it makes a difference.
Two brothers are on my mind. Three brothers, actually. What makes one choose right and another choose wrong? Or is there a "what" that makes one be one way and the other another at all? Is there something that I can take note of here? Is there some trigger, some instigator? I hesitate to say I know, for while I think I just might know, I also think I might be wrong. So, I journal and journal- and still no answers. And still so much heaviness and frustration. And wonderings of why and what if and why again.
There's the part I don't understand because I was brought up so differently... Everything was open and honest, even if it were painful or hurtful. With its stings, with its closeness- and in the end, I find it worth it. Even though my familial life was full of strain and revenge and selfishness.
For there are precious few relationships that have the opportunity of being so close, full and secure with a bond so dear, and the knowledge that there are a handful who truly know who you really are. And they love you despite and they love you because.
But so many miss it; they don't know the ones closest to them. How few thoughts of depth are shared and how little they are a part of each other's lives. Do they even know their roles? I don't understand not knowing a sister- mother- father. I don't and I never will. Because family means close; it means open and honest; it means a deep relationship, to me. I think it makes a difference. I think it really does make a difference in conversations, support, questions and answers, choices and challenges, advising and inquiring.
The problems cease to exist. But, it seems that they the problems are different. And how they are handled. So much is affected by what takes place before the problems present themselves. So much is there before they even begin. And that closeness...
I think it makes a difference.
1 comments:
If only such a lack of closeness could be mended without effort, without great amounts of time, and yet that stands completely against the very idea - to know someone without committing yourself to knowing them. I recognize that such miraculous healing could only come by God's grace and only bear fruit by His love permeating the resulting time spent in one another's presence and company.
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