Someone asked me a while back – what would I do, if one day the kids read this. Read what I wrote, read what I really think. What would I do, if one day, they read the words I wrote about them, the stories I share, and the things I say. What would I do? Don’t I know that with writing on the internet – my words will always be around, somewhere? What would I do if one day down the road, the future generation related to me – read this?
Really I didn’t have an answer at the time, because up until probably a year ago – not many people knew what I wrote. Not because it was a secret, just because it was mine. And I was free to say what I wanted without having to “worry” about others reading. I wasn’t writing for anyone, but myself.
And then people slowly started finding out that I wrote. And they had opinions. And thoughts. And reasons. And I should be doing this, and I shouldn’t be doing that. And there for a while – I thought about packing up and leaving and starting over again where no one knew me – because really, that’s all Ive ever wanted. Just one spot where I can be me, and express my thoughts without being criticized for it.
Life. It gets sticky. It gets messy. Everyone wants to be heard, everyone wants to be right. Everyone has opinions, and thoughts, and a voice. And just about everyone thinks they are right. And better. And really we spend our entire lives trying to find someone to compare ourselves to – just so we can look all that better. We start blogs and write – so we can look better than the next blogger. We have families and compare ours to others. We measure up and beyond, and demand to be noticed. We stand on our soap boxes and ANNOUNCE to the world that we are SO MUCH BETTER than everyone else because we have never thought about doing this or that.
I am here to tell you that one day, maybe the kids will read this. And no, I might not proud of every word I have written. I might not like every thing that I have done. There might be a lot of hurtful things said. There might even be some things in there that I wish I could edit out – given the chance that they would read this. But that would go against everything I have ever believed and wanted from writing.
I am not perfect. I do not measure up. I have had thoughts that would scare anyone. I am not above anyone. I have made many mistakes. I have done nothing right. I have tried, and fallen. I have wanted to run. I have wanted to die. I have considered things that no one knows. I read about people who have killed their own children, and while its unthinkable to me, I know I am not above them – because this parenting thing? Its rough. And no one tells you just how rough it will be. But somehow…we manage. We make it through, and its NOT because we are better, or stronger. Its because somehow – we see through the moment. But it doesn’t make us any better.
If one day they read this, the only thing I hope they take from it is just how human I really am. I want their best, and I will do anything to make sure they have just that. I don’t want them to only have my empty actions, and hollow spoken words to go by. I want them to look back and see – that maybe parts of life sucked. Maybe there were some seriously crappy moments, but we made it. I don’t want them growing up ignorant to the world around them, thinking that life is easy. I want them to know that life is sometimes downright hard, and that to get through some days it takes everything you’ve got.
But I want them to know that if I can do it? So can they. And if I cannot give up on them? That they had better not give up either. I want them to know just how much I do care for them, even if at times, yes, I want nothing to do with them. And I want them to know just how hard I will always fight for them, even if they don’t see it. And if one day they happen to find these words that I have written? I hope they can read between the lines of the hard days and see just how much I really do love them.
And I hope they can find it within themselves to forgive me for all the wrongs I have done, while trying to figure this all out.