Asking myself if I am "proud" of who I am and what I have become is a scary question. I've been thinking alot lately about what my Mom wanted for my future, or what she hoped for me and how I have turned out. I know she did everything for me, went way out of her way to make sure I had all that I needed, but if she were alive today, would she be proud? The only person I can ask is myself, and I do not know. Or maybe I just know the answer, and do not want to say it.With Fathers day coming, you would think my old man's impressions of me would be of importance too, wouldn't you? But that would imply that he had any doings in my growing up. 6 houses away is a universe to a 7 year old, and I simply did not know he existed. I live 6 houses away from my daughter, and she doesn't need a plane ticket to go visiting. I exist. And yes, there are things in the past that are festering and wounded. If they are that scarred, though, how can they affect me this much?
I guess my own importance, or what I wanted to be when I grew up, has taken a back seat to my Daughters well-being, in some ways. And now, that I am getting older, it's becoming clearer that this might be all that there is. But, I can still make differences daily, just with my words. I wish I could find the words that express this dark, foreboding feeling of an "ending" that has been looming over me these past few months. Maybe if I could describe it, I could understand it and conquer it.
For all the lost souls, empty words and forgotten moments, it all amounts to this ... "what you *see* right now".
Ciao
