Labor

When giving birth, labor is not a good part.  That's kind of how I feel today.  Doing hard parts.  Getting the furniture that he is taking ready.  Emptied a nightstand.  Cleaned out the loveseat.  Still have to do the desk.  And a recliner.  I have looked for beds for him.  Online.  Found box springs.  Emailed them to him.  He doesn't thank me.  It makes him mad.  And sad.  And I am sorry that he is sad.  And there is this part that wishes that he could be someone that I trust and respect.  But he is not.  He cares about how he feels and only shows action when it is him who is hurting.  That does not make a marriage.  It makes him a dependent.  Explaining why I feel towards him much as I do with my boys as they get to the age when it's time to leave home...time to move on....not lack of love, but there comes a time that you have things to learn that you have to actually learn without someone there to explain it all to you.  Your life has to become yours.  Your choices have to be owned by you.  That's where he is.  He doesn't get it still.  Thinks still that it's all some mistake or horrible misunderstanding.
I hurt for him.  Knowing that one day, hopefully, at least......the realization will come of what it was really like.  Or, maybe it won't.  Seeing as how he hasn't gotten it in all of these years with me right here saying how it hurts.  More likely that I'll be remade into that woman who just didn't understand him.  Who wasn't patient.  Who was demanding.
I wish him well.  I hope and pray tht he learns how to be a real dad.  To see his kids.  Not as ab agenda to be kept nor people to do the stuff he wants when he's available.  But as real people.  With needs.  And hopes.  And dreams.  I hope that he learns to see his daughter as the young woman who really could use a daddy to call her princess or cupcake and hug her big and spin her around.  Or, at the very least, tell her that she is beautiful and amazing and smart.  Because she is all of those things.  She needs to hear.  From the guys in her life.  And I hope that he learns to elevate his sons instead of incessantly competing with them.  Because they need to have his respect and love without earning it by "winning".  Just because they are his.  But, whether he does or not is not my job.  I have done my very best to help them to love him and respect him.  Now he is going to have to make his way.
But going through the photos and the cards and the stuff stuck away in drawers is hard.  Because there are wishes there.  But, I keep reminding myself that good has come. Though a lot of hurt too.  I never knew that there was a love as deep as I feel for my kids.  A commitment.  A desire for their good.  And I would never give that up.  And while I wish that I had had a partner rather than someone who was a critic or a dependent...depending on what was working for him at the time....I am glad that I have lived these 22 years.  I am glad for who I have become.  Though not so happy about some of the inbetween parts....this woman that I am now is strong.  Real.  Hopeful.  Full of faith.  And I have learned a lot about grace.  Real grace.  It has changed me.  And maybe, maybe as my friend said to me this week...maybe God has a ministry planned for me yet.  And maybe I had to know these things, these truths, these pains....simply to bring glory to Him in that new place.
grace.  to you.  and you.  and you. and you.  and you.........