Be Afraid, be Very Afraid

Dear Kate,

It’s interesting how swiftly and busily a summer can go… for you and me. For me, summer’s are filled with work and trips and overnight events which leave me either away from a computer or simply not in a desire to keep up with the blogging network.

But my summers have been filled with youth trips and stress and dogs! So tonight I write you in a sense of a continuation to our last posting… the interesting issues of family dynamics and in the new ideas relating to the summer of the “traveling pant-suit.”

The doc and I are no longer together for reasons I’d rather not digest over this blog. So I am again free to my independence. However, my self-sufficiency is only a coveted situation on some aspects, like those revolving around not having to deal with other's drama. Or, when my house is a mess, it is the fault of my own hand and the twelve paws of the dogs which are my children. Yet, financially, I hurt, and emotionally, I am alone. Often, I fear the later one more than the former.

And that brings me to my complaints, though I wish not to make this sharing of ideas a column for the pity party of one, staring me. I hope that what I stress in this, our first letter after a summer hiatus, be a note of understanding behind my own traveling pant-suit of one.

One of my final trips was a personal trip to St. Louis. This trip was a supposed vacation involving only the four in my family, my brother and I, my mom and dad. All went well, though I was expected to, and gladly accepted to, act the responsible one during my brother’s shenanigans. We would go out each night, despite my weariness, and stay till the crack of dawn. My brother would party hardy with long lost friends, and I would sip beer, and enjoy the occasional conversation from mutual friendships…gained through my days as designated “get the boy home safe” driver. Our first night we arrived home at 4:30 in the a.m. with parents grumbling- to be expected. I would have rather walked in with enough time to rest and get a good sleep before awaking in the early hours to spend a supposedly event filled day with the folks. Plans had been made, and sadly adjusted to compensate for my brothers hangover. I think, and perhaps am wrong in believing so, that my parents would have been more disappointed had that been me needing the day’s recovery in the dark and cold basement. But the next night, the parental unit stayed out until the wee hours, needing the last full day of our trip for some recovery. Interesting how that works.

And don’t get me started on my feelings after I actually made it to “mass” with the parents: yes me, the “pagan” youth director… I wondered silently as my parents filed up for Eucharist, if they would have been more upset had I partaken, or if they were upset because I had made the decision not to follow their ritual… I really don't know why when I go to my parents, my "pant-suit" is stripped away and replaced with toddler pants. Like my responsible pushing thrity being is really an irresponsible pushing twenty aura.

Now the scary part, the part where I do often feel more like a Hilary, than a simple me. I’ll clarify quickly by saying, though I admire Hilary Clinton for her ideas, I shudder at her ability to stand up to opposing crowds and male-full jeers as she empowers the female race. I am not as stand up as she, though I do act in opposition to the female being viewed as the “weaker sex.”

Tonight I sat up at my bar with “Matt,” “Em,” and “Ray.” Em and Ray are married and in a sense help out Matt when needed. Matt is a great friend of mine, and has helped me in as many tough times as I hope to have helped him. There we sat, discussing this impending storm, and I hear a bartender friend offer his home, should Matt need a place to run. This bothered me to no question, and I haven’t a straight answer as to why? My home too is in a flood zone. Should a storm come this direction, I too have to leave. I am alone. I have three dogs and a cat. And though I know my “children” are part of the reason I have not had the sincere offers of evacuation sanctuary, I also somehow think I put off a beacon of such independence that friends either think I have someone to take care of me, or they think I am already taking care of myself.

I don’t know. The point of this letter revolves around a thought of the independent female. Do we put off such a light that others are afraid to offer comfort to us when we are in times of need, or do we put off a sense that we are already taken care of? In other thoughts, do we act as if we are repulsed by the idea of another’s offering of a helping hand?

I myself admit that I cannot live life alone. I also admit that I am so damn independent that I tend to fail at relationships. But in times of crisis, I still need a friend. I still need help, just as my MALE friend Matt at the bar.

Much love, but please, don’t mistake my words for bitterness…

Ta Cousine,
Leigh

Some thoughts on family dynamics

Dear Leigh,

I haven't often had the opportunity to observe you around your immediate family and to see the dynamics you talk about.  The week at the beach did show that Mike can get away with what he wants, though you (and the rest of us) are generally reduced to child status, something I'm fine dealing with because my brother is [usually] treated just like I am.  A theory--apart from J's that they expect more from you because you are not the one who typically caused problems--that I have is that maybe it's just gender.  

I say this because I've noticed that, although both Derek AND Daniel are younger than I am, I am still the 'baby' of the family.  It all lies in my girl-ness--a couple of years ago, when I took a stroll on the beach by myself, the uncles and my dad were all back at the house on the balcony with binoculars to make sure I didn't speak to any guys.  I like that they're protective of me, and as of yet it hasn't much cramped my style, but I see how it would if my brother were to bring a girlfriend to the beach and they were allowed to stay in the same room while J and I were forced to sleep apart.  There are double standards; on the same trip two years ago my dad encouraged my brother to initiate conversation with some bikini-clad girls floating in the ocean.  I wonder if their uncles were watching through binoculars...

So there's an idea.  I'm sorry the trip was a disappointment...it seemed like a number of people and factors were working against your enjoying it.  If it helps, my mom and I both think Doc seems like a good guy and were saddened that tensions prevented us from getting to know him a bit more.  My mom got the benefit of a small car trip with him; I still don't know much about him, but I figure if you like him then he must be a pretty cool guy, especially away from the pressure of a girlfriend's family and no medication.

As for the grass's being greener on the other side, I suppose at the moment my grass may seem a bit more lush, but yours is looking pretty good, too.  I have to say that I'm envious of the life you've built for yourself and of the independence you have.  Everything I do follows a set path, and I more or less always do what is expected.  I rely heavily on my parents for help, I'm horribly whiny about having a job, it's taken me months to figure out that I probably can't manage taking care of a cat for at least another year, I can't cook very much or well and don't have a strong desire to, and I've chosen to live in the same place for six years because it is a) familiar and b) close to my parents.  My choices are safe, and though I think a lot of it is my personality I know that some is because of the way I was raised...pampered, maybe slightly spoiled...  I'd be tickled if you went to culinary school, just because it's something I'd never do but which seems exciting and full of possibilities to do something unique.

I don't know if any of this helps at all, but I thought I'd give you some of my thoughts.

All the best, dear cousin.

Love,

Kate

Disappointment

Dear Kate,

I chose not to call my dad on father’s day. Not until late evening. Feelings of guilt hit home following two text messages from my dad and a phone call from each parent. I finally called, gave cordial father’s day blessings, then went on my way.

The fact is, I still feel terribly battered from my week. And I do not yet see remedy in sight. I do not feel like a pushing 30 around the family, rather, I feel reduced to an inexperienced teenager. And it still pains me to the point of belligerent cursing to think and realize and experience the way my father puts my brother on such a *&#$*% silver platter. J commented that perhaps my dad expects “more” from me?! What more can I offer? I thought I was relatively successful. Happy, strong, educated. Yet, that one particular evening, I am being yelled at by both parents to “go to bed, this is not the party house, you have until 10:30.” (dost I hear tones of a curfew??!!??) Enter…Michael and the song runs over a key change: “You guys can hang out, just keep it quiet.” The little shit.

I don’t understand why my behavior (drinking?) is suddenly an issue. I do not drink to the level of both my brother AND my dad. I am somehow always caught with a beverage in hand, yet often it is the same beverage I was "caught" holding the hour before...I am a slow drinker (ask John, he joked me about it!!). Yet, I recall the "boy Welch who can do no wrong" being idiotically drunk, sitting in the driveway in a dazed stupor Wednesday night - big sister literally dragging him to bed and forcing water down his throat. Then there was my own dad’s embarrassingly boisterous behavior during dinner the following evening. And while I proudly wear the "Family Drunk" hat, still my guitar gently weeps. I felt, and still feel, like such a failure.

Then there is the doc: an impulsive light weight, who has been through much trauma in his life. He is on medication. Unfortunately, he chose not to take his medication during the week…and I suffered for his anxiety prone, obsessive compulsive, manic behavior. I killed me to see the looks and snickers occurring behind his back. It killed me to see the loss of respect in my parent’s eyes.

I feel stifled by my family; in a complete place of chaos with the doc; in a heavy strain of loss. Perhaps I expect too much from my family. Surely my own unit of four can do nothing better than fight and bicker and turn backs. I do not feel the bonds of support and encouragement. And it is not all because of the doc. It is in conjunction with my cooking, with my writing, with my music…not all great, but rather than supported, it is waved off like a seven year old's stick figure doodle.

Enough.

To your letter: you and J have a very special relationship, much different that your relationship with your dad. Your dad is proud of you. You know it very well. I don’t believe for one minute that he is hurt or offended that it took J to widen your eyes to the amazing array of joys and talents you share with your family. The fact is, you already knew of the hobbies and talents shared within your family circle (thanks to the COMBINED efforts of your parents). Often it does take an outside force to help expand and strengthen that interest. It also makes those joys more unique to you and J. Do you think for one minute that grandpa and grandma were disappointed with your mother for not following exactly to their likes? Rather, combined with your dad, those joys and interests were expanded and crafted to the new little family unit your mom was creating.

So there you are. You dad is amazing. You are amazing. You have an amazing partner. Together you can discover music and art in new and exciting ways you may have never known if left to your own devices.
I hope this helps, though somehow I don't feel like I adequately answered your letter.

Peace,
Leigh

PS
The car ride home was surprisingly comfortable. I was able to sleep most the way….it really is amazing the amount of room in that car. I was content in the back, with my herd of children, lost in thought over the revelations and disappointments of the week.

I envy what you have with your family. I suppose the grass is always greener...

I think too much sometimes

Dear Leigh,

I'm experiencing this strange sort of guilt in the midst of my post-beach pre-work ennui.

As you may or may not be aware, this past Sunday was father's day, and I did about as much as I usually do for my dad, which is to say I gave him a hug and awkwardly told him how much I enjoyed spending time with him this year.  Following this slightly uncomfortable exchange (you know those hugs where you're not sure where to put your arms?), I began analyzing the relationship I have with my dad, and came to some interesting conclusions.

Eight hours in the car (I know you had much longer!) gave me time to figure out why I feel so strange saying happy father's day to my dad, particularly this year.  It's because, though we are similar in so many ways, we are different in ways so fundamental that it makes it difficult for either of us to really talk.  What worries me might worry him, but his way of trying to make me feel better usually makes me even more stressed.   What interests him is...almost everything, but though our interests overlap in several areas, his intensity makes me feel inadequate and unable to connect because of how seriously he takes his hobbies.

So where does the guilt come in, you ask.  The guilt comes from the fact that I've introduced somebody into our lives who has interests in common with both me and my dad, and that this somebody (J) is much better at sharing music and art etc with me than my dad ever was, though he tried year after year after year.  Where I was stubborn and borderline brattish with my dad, I'm relatively patient and...I don't want to say yielding, but I'm going to...yielding with J.  I feel guilty that I'm allowing myself to share with J what I half-heartedly tried to share with my dad, and I feel guilty that it took until now for me to gladly and willingly cooperate with my dad in the area of music, that it took until now for me to listen.  

I just hope that Dad doesn't feel in some way that he's failed, or in any way annoyed that it took somebody else to ameliorate the tension I used to feel in attempting to be how my dad wanted me to be.  The way I look at it is that J facilitates my relationship with my Dad, and that that's a good thing.  I don't want Dad to resent it, that's all.

Does that make sense?  I don't even know.

Love,

Kate

P.S.- I was glad to hear you made it safely back to Florida...I imagine it was an uncomfortable trip with such a large crowd in your car.

Tides of early (early) adulthood

Dear Leigh,

I can hardly express how excited I am about next week at the beach, even if I'm not going to be there the whole time.  I'm skipping a couple days so that J can come with me...which, for me, is worth it because I so want him to meet the family and vice versa.  

Our family really is a solid place in a life full of change and uncertainty.  I haven't always felt so blessed, but as I strike off on my own this fall (sort of), knowing that I have not only my parents and brother but our whole family supporting me makes it easier to believe that I will succeed, and makes the thought of failure more bearable.  If I should come upon hard times, you'll all still be there the same as ever, and for that I feel incredibly lucky.

Drama has turned its eye away from me and J, as well, and I'm enjoying the comfort of happily living with him, coming home to quesadillas after work, hanging out at Subway while he closes up for the night, and organizing my new apartment with the two people in mind rather than only myself.  All of this (and more) is why I want to bring him to the beach.  I want to integrate him into that solidity and support that is our family, because he's already taken up that role away from the family.

Sometimes I still have trouble believing how well everything is going.  Our only concern is money, and it's not a huge problem.  I have enough for now, and will have plenty in fall--enough to (I hope) spare J a thirty-hour work week plus classes, if he'll let me.

I was talking to my roommate yesterday, and we started discussing the way relationships morph as you get older, going from the everyone-dates-everyone-else of high school to the idealism of early college to learning from all of that and choosing something that fits, that takes work, but is worth it all.  There is a huge difference, growth-wise, between an 18 year-old and a 22 year-old...at least for us...and I'm so glad of that.  Sometimes, though, I wish I could've skipped all the crap in between...

Happy Friday, O cousin of mine.

Sincerely,

Kate

P.S. I really need to start paying attention to current events.  This Blacksburg bubble has a thick membrane.

These times

Dear Kate,

It's interesting how life progresses. The kids ebb and flow like the constant changing tides on our gulf beaches...it is ridiculous sometimes. Once one issue resolves, another evolves. But luckily it is turning the eyes of drama away from my life...finally. Side note - the kids ask: are you and doc dating? have you and doc kissed? why do you deny the dating when you guys are always eating dinner together? I laugh and simply jokingly avoid these questions from their young and nosey minds. I wish to just remind them that relationships post marriage and in the decade of the 30 -something’s look quite different than the teenage dating circles witnessed daily. They are like a "Friends" episode where everyone has dated everyone else within the circle...without serious repercussions to the group dynamics. It's interesting.

I come to mind in all this how great our vacation will be next week. The acts and scenes of our own family revolutions somehow feel not so wearing, but rather strengthening. I know the doc will definitely benefit from the love our small family circle seems to radiate every time we gather! Yea, I sound mushy. But it is a vacation on so many levels for benefit the soul. And for this Saturday afternoon, I am well ready and counting down the hours.

There is so much going on the world these days: Good, Bad, Frustrating, Exciting. We have Obama's candidacy, we have Bush's not soon enough departure, we have war, we have supporters, we have rioters, we have Olympics, we have earthquakes, we have music, we have education. In the eyes of these weeks of graduations we see new groups stepping into the working world, while the younger generations are stepping into the world of higher education. I am excited for our future, while worried and stressed for our present. I feel nostalgia for a time I never even experienced, and hope for a time when I can “now” the "Good ol' days."

These times we live in are so filled with change, with hurt, with hope. It is overwhelming sometimes. It is another reason I look forward to a small week spent with family, seemingly away from reality. We really are lucky for what we have with our aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers... I am proud to be a member of this clan. It is comforting especially in our time where families are so easily split and faced with crisis. Our unit may live many miles from one another, yet we are still so close. For that I am well pleased.

You are absolutely right in your thoughts with relationships. Sometimes we do have to take that selfish perspective and expect or hope that others will come to see and accept OUR happiness. If we, as overly obsessive people pleasers, ruin a great personal relationship to save face with others whose disapproval seep with jealousy, then we really loose. I think, and agree, that true friendship will embrace that happiness where ever it appears. In our world today, we need those rays of light and hope. Our family is definitely one that embraces.

And it is truly an amazing feeling.

Peace, ma cousine

Leigh

Sheepish because of her tardy response, yet eager to share...

Dear Leigh,

I'm sorry that it's been two posts since a response from me.  Between graduating, visiting home, and giving my friend Laura the time with me that she deserves, I haven't been too close to my computer too often.

I can relate to the feeling of sort of...not being allowed to enjoy happiness newly found.  For the first couple months with J, I thought the whole world was golden, turning just to make us happy.  It certainly seemed that way, and everyone around us seemed to be just as happy with our relationship as we were.  Once I started hearing complaints, however, our joy felt tainted...

It hurts to feel as though others don't see something that makes you happy as the wonderful thing that you know it is.   It's hard to be more discreet with a relationship that just seems to fit and makes you want to announce to everyone how happy you are, and it's definitely difficult to move forward when former relationships (or non-relationships, as in my case), insist on stepping on the back of your shoes.

I've decided that, in time, my friends will come to appreciate this contentment I've found with another after so many unfortunate others and realize that, if maybe they don't see me as much or see me as much by myself, it's worth it because of how happy I am.  This is kind of a selfish line of thinking, on my part, but I like to believe that, if something came along that gave one of my close friends great joy at the cost of spending some time with me, I'd be able to welcome that thing (whether it's a person or job or hobby) because of its value to my friend.

My point in all of that talking about me is to come back to you and say that once the kids are used to the idea of you and your doctor and once your employer sees that the relationship is not something casual or sinful but something that brings you joy, they'll calm down and you can openly enjoy the happiness you deserve.  As for the marine...that's a wrench that will undoubtedly be difficult to handle, but time is an amazing healer...

Looking forward to the beach, we can both take comfort in the fact that we have a great family that seems to be only happy if we've found something or someone that makes us happy.  My parents think J is great, and you said your parents and brother like your doctor.  I can't help but feel that they'll integrate well with the rest of the family, and that there you can relax and just enjoy sharing the doctor with everyone, away from rumors and suggested discretion.

Much love and compassion...

Sincerely,

Kate