We had a complicated relationship as I was growing up. I started out as his little girl, with whom he would wrestle and cuddle. For the first ten years of my life, I was treated similarly to my older brothers, so I became a tomboy with both barbies and dump trucks. I was a happy child for the most part, although it was obvious that my sensitive nature seemed like an affront to him at times.
Combatting Religious Trauma
Today I want to talk about religious trauma. Given that our society is trying to move toward a Christian based Oligarchy this is likely to be the most common type of trauma experienced by the children of today.
Nostalgia
September has always been a challenging month for me because the changing of the seasons brings with it, nostalgia. Dictionary.com defines nostalgia as a wistful desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one’s life, to one’s home or homeland, or to one’s family and friends; a sentimental yearning for…
Grief and the Holidays
Remembering Those We’ve Lost and How We Move On The holiday season is traditionally one of the most difficult times for me. It not only comes to represent my financial shortfall; but also, the people with whom I no longer celebrate. The people no longer living as well as those I still love but with…
An Introduction to Dusty
Have you ever met someone and recognized them at first glance? No, you’ve never met before, at least not in this physical time and place. There is an instant soul connection and you realize you’ve known each other forever. You fall into a relationship that is as comfortable as your favorite jeans and as…
A Letter to My Younger Self
Dear Beth, At fourteen, you know very little about the world. You are growing up in a small insular community where everyone you know has known you since birth. Until this year you’ve been relatively healthy, so the mysterious pains and exhaustion are overwhelming you. There’s so much you want to see and do,…
The Things We Hold On To
From the moment we’re old enough to grasp something we are trained to value our material possessions. While the tattered teddy bear or worn blanket is eventually discarded for something else it has left a place in the heart and the hurt at giving it up is real. It represents a part of our being…
My Motivation
I have had many opportunities to spend time with the dying, beginning with my grandfather. I remember very little about his illness other than discovering he could no longer tell his seven-year-old granddaughter stories and I was often chased away before I could wear him out. I do remember his death. The night he died…