I have held one grudge in my life, and that was against my mom’s mom. I held that grudge until the day she died, which happened to be the day after the death of my brother. The grudge no longer holds any importance, and I don’t feel bad about holding it either.
My Grandmama was great example of forgetting her past. She learned to transform herself into some type of hoity-toity southern belle. She transported herself and her family to the Pacific Northwest, to live the new life she created.
I find that a bit funny because I’m trying to let go of my past mistakes and forgive myself—and I came from the Pacific Northwest, to live in the South.
She was a tough minded woman. Ruthless, better describes her personality type. It made her a pretty good businesswoman, she owned businesses when it wasn’t even common for women to work.
In the 1950’s, she packed up her car in North Carolina, with four children, and pregnant with her fifth. Her second husband was located out there, and it was up to her to move the family. A lot of personal things were left behind. My mom was the oldest, and she basically was in charge of the younger ones. She always was. She was my Grandmama’s personal nanny.
There are some good-for-a-chuckle stories from that trip. My mom’s youngest brother had to sit on boxes, they had to pull over from time to time so that my Grandmama could rest–which meant my mom had to make sure no harm came to the others. My uncle, who was—oh I don’t now how many years younger than my mom–was the GPS–or map reader at that time. He navigated their way across the country with many side trips to see things he found of interest.
Grandmama was a small woman. I think she was around 5’2″, but she stood 7′ tall. She had broad shoulders, which I inherited. It’s not like our shoulders are extremely broad, just enough that store bought clothing is uncomfortable enough that we had better not cross our arms across the front of us–unless it is stretchy fabric–or we’d be splitting seams.
I never asked her to help me out of a monetary situation, but she helped me in other ways, more than a few times. She wasn’t 100% rotten, but I definitely knew her limits before I was going to become her subject of criticism, dominance, and fury.
Unlike my Grandmama, I hold a lot of crap on my broad shoulders. She only cared for herself. Period. I suppose that would be called a narcissist.
When I’m asked to make a list of positive qualities about myself, being nice will be on that list.
I’m not nice.
I just want to eliminate the suffering of others, at the cost of my comfort. Some may think that is being nice, but I’m hatching plots of revenge in my mind. Plots which will never come to fruition, but plots nonetheless.
There are many times I have been faced with conflict, and my first question is WWGD? What would Grandmama do? When it comes to my kids, her lessons came in handy. However, I learned to be more diplomatic, instead of steam rolling.
The weight on my shoulders is too heavy right now. I have gone from 5’7″ to about 4′ tall, from trying to make everyone, including the animals, comfortable.
I’m not whining for sympathy. I’m tired.
Tired, and a sniveling baby.