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Why am I the only grown up in this family?  If everyone else is going to run amok and have hissy fits on an hourly basis, who am I to stand in the way?  Maybe I should join the party…I could lie in the floor and throw a temper tantrum worthy of a three-year old, rattling the windowpanes and shaking the foundation piers of our home…  I wonder what they would do then?  

This was NOT a change that I ever anticipated.  Since work was the unhappiest part of my life, I simply assumed this was the area where something would happen.  Did I somehow bring this horror upon my family by sharing this feeling with others?  Could it be my fault?  Did I miss a sign, some indication that would suggest this outcome?  No, I think not…to believe such a thing would be to make more erroneous assumptions, and presume levels of control and knowledge that I have never known…  

And so life keeps moving along…  We are pushed forward by unyielding tides of expectation and commitment.  Queen City tennis practice and USTA league play have both resumed for the fall season…but my heart is not in playing.  Actually, my heart isn’t into anything; I don’t know if it will ever be again…  Grace is not overtly rebelling against the return to Butler, but she is even less communicative than before.  She failed her learner’s permit test the other day; in her eyes, the blame for that flop is squarely upon my shoulders.  Beth gleefully informed her that God must not have wanted her to drive yet, since she flunked on the last question.  The antagonism between those two could curdle milk; I don’t believe it’s sincere, but it is sure hard to be around every single day.  I frequently remind them of one of my Grandpa’s sayings.  He would tell me and my sisters that someday we would regret acting so ugly to each other because sooner or later we would all be living in different places…  Beth has resumed school as well; this should interfere with her micro-mothering of Grace.  Hopefully she will channel her attention and energy in this direction now, working towards a positive outcome during this time of turmoil.  John continues to ignore my pleas; I have been shamelessly begging him to meet with a counselor.  He refuses on the grounds that it would be a waste of his time and our money, as there is no person capable of helping him.  John continually turns it over in his mind, trying to puzzle it out, searching for a plan, procedure, some sort of process that will make this easier or faster…  I’ve already figured out there isn’t a shortcut for grieving the death of your son…  

So many times I want to give up, throw in the towel, and let it all go.  This isn’t the life that I wanted, or expected to have, so why bother fighting for it?  The load is too heavy; I don’t know how much longer I can lift it.  It is cruel and hard, trying to adapt to it all, learning to tolerate the intolerable.  It is in these moments, drained and despairing, that I finally relent and ask for help.  I touch my necklace, and remember that He is my hope and the source of all of our help.  Without fail, the help I need arrives…and my hope is renewed again…  

Original blog posts have been re-posted under the month of March, identified as Archive-Part 1, etc.  Wishing you hope… TG  

Tammy will update her blog on Mondays and Thursdays.  -- Jen, site administrator