It's my turn in the North Country.
We've been here in Zion for 48 hours, and already I've wondered what I was thinking, planning a trip as long as this one is slated to be, staying with my parents. I don't know that I've spent this many days back-to-back with them since I finally moved out for the last time in February of 1995. There is a reason. There are many reasons.
But what I must stay is that even though there are still moments that I can't believe I'm subjecting myself to all this time with mum n' step-dad, my mother is finally trying to take responsibility for years and years of parenting mistakes that until about six months ago were a festering wound that I didn't think would ever mend. My mother is proof that people can change. That transformation is slow, but it is happening. For the first time in my life I feel that my pains as a child, as an adolescent are being validated. I don't think she understands what a gift her efforts are to me. Every time she acknowledges a recognized wrong it empowers me with a sense of ability where for decades I fell incapable and largely rejected.
My children seem to be enjoying the visit, though E-- is bored out of his mind. They have been asking for more and more details from my childhood, and being here helps them to fill in holes in my history that I haven't felt safe revisiting.
Strangely enough, I miss my husband. More than I have since I first left him. I'm not certain what flipped the fondness switch; perhaps the distance makes it safe to love him more because I'm not bracing myself for the next time that he hurts me. Whatever the reason, I'm feeling restored love and desire to put our marriage back together. We'll see if it abides once I return to Happy Valley.
We head back Christmas Eve.