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It occurs to me that all I am and all that I have accomplished is a tribute to my mom and pops despite and in spite of my constant denial and blaming of my parents for all my problems.
All that I righted in my life, any heart I brightened, or burden I squashed was because of my parents. They were like gardeners planting bits and pieces of themselves into me. They taught me to work hard and believe in the universal rule that "what goes around comes around. " They taught me to be creative and believe that I can make anything I want or need. Despite the fact that I felt neglected as a child was always well fed and I knew they were busy in the next room, not far from me. I am still their little girl with my aged heart on fire for their love and approval. My own kids shot across the sky into infinity, forever impervious to my own "mediocre" mothering My parents helped me raise them, too, like most grandparents do. Now I'm helping raise my grandchildren in the pages of this book. My kids are now writers of their destiny, sculpturing their own lives despite what I want for them. They carry with my love, my wit and my good intentions as well as many apologies for cutting them short on opportunities for growth.
I have two grown boys who are thirty-two and thirty-seven. Both suffer from depression. One works and his depression hasn't taken over his life. The younger has been dysfunctional since he was a teenager. I also have two grown daughters, one thirty-six who also works although she takes medication daily for depression. My other daughter has depression but refuses to take mediation.l It upsets her balance somehow. She drifts from place to place looking for someplace or something to complete her. I have a younger brother who committed suicide rather than watch mom die year's ago. We were also estranged as brother and sister, always keeping a record of our wrongs. The first time I ever touched him, I found him dead on the floor. I'm hoping my own kids will all at some point come to understand what Corinthians 13 reminds us, that "...love does not keep a record of wrongs; love is not happy with evil, but is happy with the truth. Love never gives up:Its faith, hope and patience never fail, Love is eternal...There are faith, hope and love, these three; but the greatest of these is love."
These words were taken from my book, Sculpting the Heart: Surviving Depression with Art Therapy. Come visit me in my book or at my web site, www.sculptingtheheart.com and/or www.blogit.com/Blogs/Afil/?305539
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