There Can Be No War Without Bloodshed

About five weeks ago I had a mini-stroke (aka TIA: transient ischemic attack).  I was in the hospital for a week.  My sister watched my children so my husband could focus on our foster kittens and on getting himself to the hospital each day to spend time with me.  Who knew that something like that would cause such a rift in my family-one that I don't think will ever be repaired.  Time is a funny thing.  When we're small we want to grow up as fast as we can.  When we start to get older, we wish for time to slow down.  I told myself a few years ago that I was already half way through my life and that I would want to get as much as I can done-and live to at least 90 if God blesses me in that way.  Unfortunately, I don't think I'll be so lucky to live to 90, so the time that I do have now, however short it may be, I have tried to do something I love more often, even amongst the chaos of moving homes.  

I've spent the last almost 4 weeks, packing, sorting, purging, doing donation runs, buying duct and packing tape, cleaning, and walking up and down the flights of stairs at my mother's house.  For someone who was supposed to be healing and taking it easy, I was not given that option when I returned home after the hospital.  What started as "redoing the floors upstairs to give me a cleaner and more spacious place to live," turned into us needing to pay more rent and the promise of a room for each of my children, became an offer of "only if we pay more per room." Nothing on either side of the situation was fair, I will admit that, but forcing us to hurry up and pack up almost 42 years of my life (27 for my children), was exhausting, emotionally draining, physically hard, and something I would have never expected would happen the way it all did.  There are many scenarios I'd assume as what was going on behind my back, words exchanged, plots schemed, all to make me feel small, less than, and just as I always have been-like a black sheep.  

My life hasn't been easy.  Of course I'm pretty certain I remember at some point in my childhood being soft, quiet, and happy.  I lost my father when I was seven, and my mom had to go to work full-time after having my sister, so that she could financially support our family.  At seven, I was cooking, cleaning, and helping with my brother, who's three years younger than me.  At nine, I was taking my little sister to preschool on my bike and then riding to school with my brother, on our bikes to St. Anthony's in Kailua, where I attended third thru eighth grade.  I had skin issues, acne, and we were what most would call poor, and I was reminded about it every day by the other kids in my classes (I bring up the acne and skin issues because we couldn't afford special face creams/wash and doctor's appointments).  I would save up money from helping the school secretary clean the classrooms after school.  My job was to take out the trash.  I got $10 a week for helping.  I saved up my money and bought my first bike without any help from my mom-except to transport the bike home.  My brother was a problem child, and a few months after getting my bike, my brother took it apart and sold the pieces while I wasn't home.  I believed that somewhere in there, IF I loved my brother enough, despite our differences, that he'd be a good person, a decent human, and have empathy as he grew into manhood.  I believed that off and on for a time. Even when his life went downhill, I continued to help him when I could-when he would let me.  As for my sister, I've always loved her like she was my child and as she became a woman and had her own children, I tried to be the best auntie that I could be, loving them the same way I loved her; but even that was in vain as so much of what has happened in the last month and half, has opened my eyes and closed my heart; the pain that I have endured is something out of a bad movie, that keeps you wishing the villain would just leave you alone.  My husband always says when we watch those kinds of movies, that if you really hate the villain in the movie, it means they're doing a good job as an actor to make you feel that way. My life was good.  I was happy and content; I felt blessed and thought that after I thought I made amends with my brother before my wedding almost two years ago, that my life was good; it was complete. And then slowly, one thing after another happened.  Life is funny that way and time is its partner is crime.  

There aren't too many things that I can say here without giving private details that only the people involved know, but I will say that I am disappointed and heartbroken.  I know this heartbreak well for I've been living it surrounding living people for almost two years now.  I wish, I hope for more, but then have thoughts of, "Maybe I should just give up and let go; grieve them and move on, for if they wanted me in their lives, you would be." My health issues have done nothing to appease those feelings; they've only made them hurt more.  Things I hope and wish for may never happen in this lifetime.  I joke with my kids about not having time, but they are young and don't completely understand that mommy really doesn't have more time.  Medications buy me time.  Watching my fluid intake because my body retains water now, buys me more time.  The stress and cruel behaviors (however calmly they present themselves to me) have done nothing than steal that time away from me.  Instead of spending the last month with my kids and husband and extended family, relishing in my pets affections, and making memories, I was forced to pack to move; give up and dump over half of our belongings, and give up our pets without having the chance to say goodbye. It all hurt. All of it.  And it was only hurting us because the winners of this occurrence wasn't us at all. 

So what does my story have to do with genealogy?  All of this made me think of how much my ancestors must've gone through.  I'm sure there were similar instances, similar relationships doomed, and painful decisions they made to move their families in a forward motion for the better of their health, sanity, and emotional well being.  As a genealogist, I look at their lives on paper.  I ask questions and research the eras they lived in, the jobs they worked, how many children they had, and where they were born, married, died, and laid to rest.  Each of them as close to me as anyone that is still living. And although I have never met any of them, I would hope that they were good, decent humans, that lived an honest life, were kind and empathetic, and loving.  I guess that's what any of us hope that they were.  If only life was simpler, kinder, and less stressful.  Our problems and failures help us grow spiritually and in our faith.  Our successes help us to realize the worth of what we went through because we kept our faith.  We can't have one without the other and as painful as growth can be, we as humans will always live out our lives with that hope that it won't be so painful and hard.  A show I am currently watching (in my down time) is "The Last Kingdom."  It's about the Saxon and Dane wars and the unification of England.  There's a saying they use throughout the show: "There can be no war without bloodshed." I believe life can have so many moments and so many things that we spend our lives fighting for.  Just like those that came before us, there are so many sacrifices we need to make, so many people to let go of, so many things that leave us wondering why we do any of this at all. What makes our lives worth living? What are we willing to do to get what we want? How much blood needs to be spilled in order to get our points across? Our ancestors, I'm sure had these same questions and battled with these same demons.  

I feel I've just been through a war, and as I drove to my new home late yesterday evening with the last of my belongings in the backseat, I breathed a sigh of relief that I could finally have some peace after the bloodshed. For now, it's a new chapter in our lives; God has been preparing us for more. The abundance He provides has always amazed me, especially when I think I'm not sure I can trust his process and His plan, He shows up with rainbows, sunshine, and a comfort only He can provide us.