It's My Time---Dolly Parton
Without Prejudice
As Dolly Parton sang once,
"It's My Time"
It's a phrase that echoes in my mind, over and over with an added, mmmm, mmmm to an upbeat rhythm. I can't believe I have reached an age where I don't have to do anything anyone else tells me to do. Even my kids.
All my kids have great happy fulfilled lives and if they didn't it would be their fault not mine. I no longer feel that my children's behaviour is a reflection on me. Knowing that they are not likely to commit murder, Hari Kari , steal the Crown Jewels, nor be bitches on Facebook, it is a feeling so comforting that I want to gloat about it.
I know they can be good Mothers, good friends, good family members, be respectful, funny, have a good faith in God and be happy. It's been a long perilous journey to now. They didn't have the best start in life, their Dad was neither loving nor affectionate and sadly for him very violent. I am sure he regrets that now but it's far too late to worry about it.
If I talk about it my insides sqinch down with a remembrance of times so wrong I can't go into it. He had something wrong with him and I forgive him for my sake but he is someone that is hard to forgive and forget as I believe he knew exactly what he was doing and enjoyed and revelled in cruelty.
Five months after our youngest daughter died in a tragic drowning accident I asked him to leave the rest of us and Thank God he did. I have spoken to him maybe a handful of times since and it has always been awful to do so. He knows that.
While we were together it was so bad that it has taken me years to talk about it. I no longer want to as I don't want to be seen as either victim nor survivor. I just want to be me, Janette. A Mother first, a writer, a friend, a member of a big family, survivors of the tragic death of a sibling ourselves and a mentally affected Mum and a flawed Dad. But we always had each other and still do.
One is a former Soldier and fought for his Country in Vietnam. One is a singer and fabulous at it and a great wife, two run their own businesses and do very well, I am a writer and one is a Nurse. My parents as poor and intelligent as they were, would have been so proud. But then they always were.
We all did pretty well at everything we attempted as our parents gave us all their love, pride and loyalty and had no bother in telling us and showing it. The worst thing they did was to move such a lot that a counsellor told me years later it would have set up anxiety and fear in us kids. But we were destined to have anxiety as it runs in the bigger family.
We fight it.
I am lucky to love and admire them all. My brothers and sisters.
I am always shocked and surprised when friends tell me of their horrible or absent Dads. Their abusive or neglectful Mothers. One of my friends never saw her Mum from 4 years old to 13. The
Mum simply walked out one day and left her with her elderly parents. My friend never forgets the day she was abandoned and never ever forgave her.
When she told me I couldn't believe it. Couldnt comprehend it. Couldn't imagine it.
I was the same when any one ever told me about their horrible childhood. Unbelieving. I had never once in my life felt abandoned, humiliated, fearful or not sure of who I was and why I mattered. And I was number five in an eventual family of seven. You would think I would have felt left out as some members do of big families. Never.
I was " special" in my own " special" way. I could read and write before I went to school. And was " put up " to grade one after six months of Prep. I then excelled at school after school and I counted them all up one day, 17. I was always Top Girl, head girl, captain of softball, captain of swimming. It was a quality my parents gave to me and I never let them down.
I had the feeling even in the Teen years I would not want to disappoint them. I never had to fear them, thank God, just not want to let them down. My Dad thought the sun shone out of my bottom, but he also thought that of all his kids. So we consequently never let him down.
I swore once when I was 13 and my brother was so shocked he thumped me on the arm. It wasn't even a bad swear word. But thump me he did and said he was going to tell Mum, big Klypie that he was. But he didn't, so strong was our loyalty to each other.
The upshot of all the family history is that all of us are strong self confident people in the world. Not a black sheep amongst us. The type of family that think the worst thing that happened to us was all being punished for someone doing a big poo on the back lawn as we all hated the smelly out house.
No one owned up when we were lined up and questioned.
Jackie and I were sure it was George and George thought it was me. We never ever did find out who the real culprit was. I was young, maybe 7 and thinking back think it was me, as pooping in the dark was hidden, and would never be discovered. But Dad said it was too big for me so we all stared balefully at George as he was always the scapegoat.
So now with my old found confidence renewed I am ready for the next part of my life.And its soo exciting. I can do anything, or do nothing, go anywhere or never go anywhere again. Ive been to just about every country on earth, courtesy of my parents before I had turned 16. They thought travel broadened the minds of their kids so took us everywhere.
I can stay single, get a partner, stay here, get another abode, stagnate happily or stretch my wings. I don't know but I am guessing I will.
Xxx Nettie
As Dolly Parton sang once,
"It's My Time"
It's a phrase that echoes in my mind, over and over with an added, mmmm, mmmm to an upbeat rhythm. I can't believe I have reached an age where I don't have to do anything anyone else tells me to do. Even my kids.
All my kids have great happy fulfilled lives and if they didn't it would be their fault not mine. I no longer feel that my children's behaviour is a reflection on me. Knowing that they are not likely to commit murder, Hari Kari , steal the Crown Jewels, nor be bitches on Facebook, it is a feeling so comforting that I want to gloat about it.
I know they can be good Mothers, good friends, good family members, be respectful, funny, have a good faith in God and be happy. It's been a long perilous journey to now. They didn't have the best start in life, their Dad was neither loving nor affectionate and sadly for him very violent. I am sure he regrets that now but it's far too late to worry about it.
If I talk about it my insides sqinch down with a remembrance of times so wrong I can't go into it. He had something wrong with him and I forgive him for my sake but he is someone that is hard to forgive and forget as I believe he knew exactly what he was doing and enjoyed and revelled in cruelty.
Five months after our youngest daughter died in a tragic drowning accident I asked him to leave the rest of us and Thank God he did. I have spoken to him maybe a handful of times since and it has always been awful to do so. He knows that.
While we were together it was so bad that it has taken me years to talk about it. I no longer want to as I don't want to be seen as either victim nor survivor. I just want to be me, Janette. A Mother first, a writer, a friend, a member of a big family, survivors of the tragic death of a sibling ourselves and a mentally affected Mum and a flawed Dad. But we always had each other and still do.
One is a former Soldier and fought for his Country in Vietnam. One is a singer and fabulous at it and a great wife, two run their own businesses and do very well, I am a writer and one is a Nurse. My parents as poor and intelligent as they were, would have been so proud. But then they always were.
We all did pretty well at everything we attempted as our parents gave us all their love, pride and loyalty and had no bother in telling us and showing it. The worst thing they did was to move such a lot that a counsellor told me years later it would have set up anxiety and fear in us kids. But we were destined to have anxiety as it runs in the bigger family.
We fight it.
I am lucky to love and admire them all. My brothers and sisters.
I am always shocked and surprised when friends tell me of their horrible or absent Dads. Their abusive or neglectful Mothers. One of my friends never saw her Mum from 4 years old to 13. The
Mum simply walked out one day and left her with her elderly parents. My friend never forgets the day she was abandoned and never ever forgave her.
When she told me I couldn't believe it. Couldnt comprehend it. Couldn't imagine it.
I was the same when any one ever told me about their horrible childhood. Unbelieving. I had never once in my life felt abandoned, humiliated, fearful or not sure of who I was and why I mattered. And I was number five in an eventual family of seven. You would think I would have felt left out as some members do of big families. Never.
I was " special" in my own " special" way. I could read and write before I went to school. And was " put up " to grade one after six months of Prep. I then excelled at school after school and I counted them all up one day, 17. I was always Top Girl, head girl, captain of softball, captain of swimming. It was a quality my parents gave to me and I never let them down.
I had the feeling even in the Teen years I would not want to disappoint them. I never had to fear them, thank God, just not want to let them down. My Dad thought the sun shone out of my bottom, but he also thought that of all his kids. So we consequently never let him down.
I swore once when I was 13 and my brother was so shocked he thumped me on the arm. It wasn't even a bad swear word. But thump me he did and said he was going to tell Mum, big Klypie that he was. But he didn't, so strong was our loyalty to each other.
The upshot of all the family history is that all of us are strong self confident people in the world. Not a black sheep amongst us. The type of family that think the worst thing that happened to us was all being punished for someone doing a big poo on the back lawn as we all hated the smelly out house.
No one owned up when we were lined up and questioned.
Jackie and I were sure it was George and George thought it was me. We never ever did find out who the real culprit was. I was young, maybe 7 and thinking back think it was me, as pooping in the dark was hidden, and would never be discovered. But Dad said it was too big for me so we all stared balefully at George as he was always the scapegoat.
So now with my old found confidence renewed I am ready for the next part of my life.And its soo exciting. I can do anything, or do nothing, go anywhere or never go anywhere again. Ive been to just about every country on earth, courtesy of my parents before I had turned 16. They thought travel broadened the minds of their kids so took us everywhere.
I can stay single, get a partner, stay here, get another abode, stagnate happily or stretch my wings. I don't know but I am guessing I will.
Xxx Nettie
