Monday, June 13, 2011

It Looks Like Another Love TKO: Sometimes ya gotta let it go. Pain!


LOVE & PAIN! What are they good for?

I know what Teddy said " I think I better let it go"...

The most dominate factors to my growth have come via my journey through love and pain. Those rewards did not come from the love of others. It was more about my ability to recover the love -- I lost -- for myself.

This post was inspired by:

Kit, http://keepittrill.blogspot.com/
A Smith, http://blackdiamond2008.blogspot.com/
Mizrepresents http://readingwritingblogging.blogspot.com/
Ms. Ann @ The Old Black Church http://theoldblackchurch.blogspot.com/

I love love love personal blogs. I view my blog as personal, but what do I have in common with the above women, and what do they have in common with each other? Well, they all have either lost a loved one, or are in the process of losing one, or has written about the pain of supporting a loved one and letting them go. To some degree, I think everyone has been there.

My father never had to cut the cord from me. He didn't see my deepest struggles. He passed away at an early age.

Some of my greatest memories are the times I spent with my father. I loved to watch him play softball. Those were different days, they were slower times. Drug abuse and fatherless children were not the prevalent topics of discussion. I can remember going to far off places with my father and his softball team. Well, we lived in Illinois, and what seemed like a distant land was nothing more than a small town or a corn field on the other side of the Mississippi River. But to me, it was a place of wonderment. Just as in the movie "The Field Of Dreams" the farmers built it and we played in it. Actually, I went to shag foul balls. Since the ball diamonds were carved out of corn fields or near a corn field, a foul ball or a home run that landed in the corn was worth 5 cents to the luckiest or fastest kid that retrieved the wayward Spalding. I was pretty fast and didn't mind getting scratched by the corn stalks.

After returning home, I shared my bounty with my brothers. Sometimes it would be as much as 1 dollar. A paltry sum by todays standards, but a kings ransom back then. The neighborhood movie cost twenty two cents. A fresh hot bag of popcorn could be had for a nickel, likewise for a small pop. Those were the days, 3 raggety black kids enjoying a day at the movies. I remember the joy on my fathers face. He was proud of me and my brothers, and pleased that we had a great time together.

My father was a man's man. In his last days I had to carry him to the bath room. He was to weak to walk the distance and to proud to take care of his business in his bed. I remember the look on his face - he couldn't do for himself. I still remember my loss for words. He didn't have to bare the pain of seeing me down, yet, I felt the pain of losing him. Although I no longer wear that pain, I remember what I had to go through to put it in it's proper place.

My mother saw me on the ground. She saw the depths of my struggles. I'll get back to her.

Kit, over at Keep it Thrill (above), has shared some of her recent struggles with her son. With the conviction and courage of a lion, she has shared her pain of a mother holding on to a son, who seems to be lost in a storm. She has documented that journey, which at times, has been very disturbing.

Many bloggers have gathered at her blog with words of encouragement and inspiration. One such blogger, A Smith (above), went there to share her story. She told of her lover that was struggling with drug abuse. Her lovers mother told her to run away from her son. It was her opinion that her son would drag A Smith to the ground. Even though Ms. Smith loved this man, she finally realize she had to let him go. She told him she couldn't do it anymore. They broke up and a few months later, her lover committed suicide.

A Smith dropped by Kit's blog to share a little compassion, empathy, and wisdom, on the process of going through. She said, although the ending to her story was not how she would have planned it, and was not without pain, she now believes the thought of letting go was much more painful than being on the other side. She confided that she still misses her guy, but the healing process began when she made the decision to cut the cord. Now there's a possibility for solutions, if only for herself.

How does a mother let go?

I am not a mother so I can't answer that question, but I know how my mother forced me to swim or die. She simply told me she had given it to God, and she was done. She couldn't do it any more.

After my biggest fall, my friends and family told me they had never seen my mother as low as those days of my turmoil. They said she was dying inside. While in my struggle, her feeling and emotions were never at the forefront of my mind. I was a selfish fool. So, in retrospect, it was only fitting that she left me to my own demise. I am grateful that she cut the cord. She told me that my burial was paid and I had to sink or swim. Oh lord, did I sink, but I didn't drown. My gratefulness extends beyoud my obvious rewards, but moreso to the fact that my mother found the courage to release herself from my pain. There's an old school songs that goes... "when something is wrong with my baby, something is wrong with me".

I included Mizrepresents and Ann (above) in this post because both of them have shared their journeys with me. I don't know if they've given any details of their lives so I will refrain from doing so in this post. However, through our common struggles, we've exchanged words of wisdom and words of encouragement. They may not know it, but their words have inspired me to continue to write and to continue to share in a courageous and honest way. I visit their blogs. Other people may not know it, but I know they cry... sometimes.

Maybe one day we will all sit down at the same table and have one big cry. Men do cry, and sometimes, tears come from joy, and hope, and the realization that it's gonna be alright in the morning.

Sometimes I’m up, sometimes I’m down
Oh, yes, Lord
Sometimes I’m almost to de groun’
Oh, yes, Lord

If you get there before I do
Oh, yes, Lord
Tell all-a my friends I’m coming too
Oh, yes, Lord

Nobody knows de trouble I’ve seen
Nobody knows de trouble but Jesus
Nobody knows de trouble I’ve seen
Glory Hallelujah!

10 comments:

Mizrepresent said...

Yes Carey/Carey i do cry sometimes, and yes i have had my share of troubles, but you know what, when i read your post, i smiled. I laughed, and i rejoiced knowing that there is someone out there that gets me, doesn't judge me and sincerely cares about me. I needed this on this day, at this very moment, so i thank you so very much!

BigmacInPittsburgh said...

Good to know I'm not the only man who can shed a tear or two when needed.Good Post.

jjbrock said...

Carey the past decade has left me with more pain than anytime in my life...I lost my home, my son to the prison system, and death stole my mom and grandmother...Every day it's taking every thing in me to stop from going under.
CAREY THANKS!!

A.Smith said...

Carey, thank you.

That sink or swim thing is hard to watch. I thought J (my ex) was swimming -- I thought he was swimming because I'd let go and it wasn't until it was too late that I realized he'd actually been sinking, but of course that wasn't my fault.

What I've been learning on blogs like yours and Kit's is that people benefit from us sharing that hard stuff. It's not easy to share, but it makes me feel good to know other people relate and appreciate it.

So thank you (again).

CareyCarey said...

Hello Big Mac, Hello ladies.

First I have to say thanks to all of you. This post was my pleasure.

We never know who's reading our post. At times I've stopped by and told others that I mentioned them in a post, but for this one, I didn't do that. This message/post was for all the individuals that are experiencing some sort of pain, that many can not relate to. For the most part, although we all experience pain, no one really knows our total struggles, which include, guilt, remorse, fear, shame, uncertainty, what-ifs, loneliness and confusions. Pain and suffering is a family affair. So I was reaching out to my blog family to say... "I understand!".

Pain and joy are directly related to the depth of the suffering, and nobody really knows our blues.

There's a huge myth that only those that suffer from some type of dependency needs to change their mindset. I've come to believe we all have a fear (denial) to open our own closets.

I could take a page or two to reply to all of you, because as you know, I've been on all sides of the fence. I too have children. I've been a fool, unconsciously and consciously. Death has laid at my feet.

But what about a time called now?!

I've heard the words of others telling me "what I should do" and "this is what you need to do".

They don't know my sorrow nor my joy.

Thanks!

CareyCarey said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Reggie said...

Blogging ettiquette?!? Man, do you!!!

I only hope that we all blog for the sheer joy of blogging; and blog the topics and make the comments that come from our hearts and minds in a spirited release.

Takin' the bumps and the bruises
Of all the things of a two-time loser
Tryin' to hold on, faith is gone
It's just another sad song

I learned to love music from listening to my father play music; and there is plenty of Otis Redding and Marvin Gaye and the Temptations and Sam Cooke in my library. I can't go to my paternal grandparents home without hearing "Sitting on the dock of the bay" in my head.

My father was a man's man too and he also died young...at 54. He put his own stamp on me as much as any father can do so for his son. He didn't believe in expressing feelings or showing much emotion. Sometimes he laughed and sometimes he was as mean as a snake; but he was my father and I loved him dearly. I'll take a part of him wherever I go and until the day I die I'll do that.

We all have troubles. My two children worry me everyday for some reason or another. They're both college students and yet, I worry about them now more than ever; particularly since I can't see them on a daily basis. Their choices are less than perfect sometimes. Just like their father's choices were and his father's choices.....such is life.

By the way, you're one helluva blogologist!!!

CareyCarey said...

Reggie, my father died at about the same age.

I agree, when the kids leave the nest, it's on. Just think, your daughter could run into a man just like you *smile*. That's probably a good thang, but what happens in vegas....

Music does have a way of taking us back.

But man, I don't know about the blogologist tag? Is that like a proctologist or a negro-eologist. I mean, holla-ology...

I need to know.

Kit (Keep It Trill) said...

I read this a few days ago but needed time to gather my thoughts.

It's not just a matter of a mother or father letting go, but also the adult child (AC) of that parent. The AC has a lot of ambivalence: they push you away, yet pull toward you, often five times in the same day. This looks really crazy when the AC has mental health and/or substance abuse issues. They want and need independence, yet aren't together enough to get it.

Add in a bad job market and few to no social programs for a safety net, and, well, you have the equivalent of a dog and cat living together.

CareyCarey said...

Yes Kit, I agree with you 100%. A multitude of factors play into this dilemma. A post is way limited to do justice to this issue. But you hit on something that many do not understand. When we add mental problems to the equation, we now are in the big leagues. For the most part, many (most) people do not consider the use of drugs and alcohol as a mental problem. But lord have mercy, once a substance grabs ahold of the man, the man has unconsciously given away his right to think properly. They may feel as if they are clicking on all cylinders, but they are not.

THEN, if prescribed mood altering drugs ever come into play, the game increase 10 fold.

Then, in many many cases, once on the prescription, the client is damned if they do and damn if they don't... take the drugs.

Yes Kit, this is a mean game. In most cases, the care giver (family) has no idea how to solve any problems in the equation be cause they simply do not understand any of it. And, do not know how, or where to find answers. Hell, how does a person find answers to problems they don't even know exist?!

This is a big subject.