While the children were visiting with Roger, Fluff received a call from her brother in Botswana to inform her that her father had passed away. N told me he was the fun one, the one who was always ready and willing to help her. It reminded me a little of Roger. In the relationship,he was always the active fun parent and always threw himself headlong into projects with the kids, his whole self in the process of helping. I always admired that about Roger, his ability to wholeheartedly throw himself into the process of helping another no matter who it was.
N reported that Roger and Fluff spent a long time behind closed doors, as he tried to console her. N reports, that the crying could be heard from behind the door. Then Fluff packed her bags and flew to Botswana, to begin the proceedings of funeral arrangements and the like. It would seem that she was to be the one who would have to make the arrangements.
When the children came back K ( eldest daughter) had a bag of chocolate Easter bunnies. It was explained to me that these were sent by Fluff's father for the children. It was a little weird seeing the children carefully share the fruits of one of the last acts of a dead man. Interesting too that Fluff's dad would send treats all the way from Botswana for my children.
The children then explained that all Fluff's dad wanted to do was to come and see these children. His wife had already seen them, his brother had made the trip up and even Fluff's cousin had come to visit them. It doesn't take much reading between the lines to realise that Fluff has really taken on the role of step-mother, as has her family, who in someways I suppose feel like uncle and grandma and grandpa to them. A sort of unspoken adoption. It feels a bit in my heart like an abduction, you know the ones that happen in the supermarket...One day you go grocery shopping and when you come back, while your eggs and cheese bump together in your shopping bag, someone takes your children and claims them as their own.
I'm struck full force with the feeling that these are my children, I want them, they are mine. Somewhere in my heart, the fibers are stretched and torn and there is definitely a great deal of pain associated with this. Like a toddler at playschool feeling the pain of his or her first lessons in sharing. " No Mine!" I don't want to share. So the only way I can deal with this is for me to see it from an altruistic point of view. My children have more people to love them, That can only be good right?
On Sunday I taught a Sunday School lesson ( adult Sunday school). It was on the admonition Jesus gave people to become like little children. I had a guy friend come up to the front of the class with his 3 year old little girl.( who is noonie...as the kids would call it- cute ,cute , cute) I asked him to talk about all her wonderful qualities. It was really beautiful. One thing he said really struck me. He said when he first started having children, he thought that with each new child, his love would have to be divided between them, thus the more children you have, the less love each receives.He said in fact with each child, his capacity for love grew and he had more love to give. Awesome.
All I can say is loving my five is such a privilege and honour. I love tucking people into bed at night, giving fishy and butterfly kisses, hugs, even the stiff ironing board hugs you get when you try to hug your 16 year old boy. I love making supper together with all five, and washing up alone....cause everyone remembered they had a project to do. I love seeing the fine and wonderful, tremendous qualities and talents housed in my five. I love the giggles from rooms, love it's a big thing, is there anything bigger? So if through some quirk of fate, there are some more people queuing up to love my kids,that's alright, afterall "It's love that makes the world go round..." and no-one else can be their MOTHER.
N reported that Roger and Fluff spent a long time behind closed doors, as he tried to console her. N reports, that the crying could be heard from behind the door. Then Fluff packed her bags and flew to Botswana, to begin the proceedings of funeral arrangements and the like. It would seem that she was to be the one who would have to make the arrangements.
When the children came back K ( eldest daughter) had a bag of chocolate Easter bunnies. It was explained to me that these were sent by Fluff's father for the children. It was a little weird seeing the children carefully share the fruits of one of the last acts of a dead man. Interesting too that Fluff's dad would send treats all the way from Botswana for my children.
The children then explained that all Fluff's dad wanted to do was to come and see these children. His wife had already seen them, his brother had made the trip up and even Fluff's cousin had come to visit them. It doesn't take much reading between the lines to realise that Fluff has really taken on the role of step-mother, as has her family, who in someways I suppose feel like uncle and grandma and grandpa to them. A sort of unspoken adoption. It feels a bit in my heart like an abduction, you know the ones that happen in the supermarket...One day you go grocery shopping and when you come back, while your eggs and cheese bump together in your shopping bag, someone takes your children and claims them as their own.
I'm struck full force with the feeling that these are my children, I want them, they are mine. Somewhere in my heart, the fibers are stretched and torn and there is definitely a great deal of pain associated with this. Like a toddler at playschool feeling the pain of his or her first lessons in sharing. " No Mine!" I don't want to share. So the only way I can deal with this is for me to see it from an altruistic point of view. My children have more people to love them, That can only be good right?
On Sunday I taught a Sunday School lesson ( adult Sunday school). It was on the admonition Jesus gave people to become like little children. I had a guy friend come up to the front of the class with his 3 year old little girl.( who is noonie...as the kids would call it- cute ,cute , cute) I asked him to talk about all her wonderful qualities. It was really beautiful. One thing he said really struck me. He said when he first started having children, he thought that with each new child, his love would have to be divided between them, thus the more children you have, the less love each receives.He said in fact with each child, his capacity for love grew and he had more love to give. Awesome.
All I can say is loving my five is such a privilege and honour. I love tucking people into bed at night, giving fishy and butterfly kisses, hugs, even the stiff ironing board hugs you get when you try to hug your 16 year old boy. I love making supper together with all five, and washing up alone....cause everyone remembered they had a project to do. I love seeing the fine and wonderful, tremendous qualities and talents housed in my five. I love the giggles from rooms, love it's a big thing, is there anything bigger? So if through some quirk of fate, there are some more people queuing up to love my kids,that's alright, afterall "It's love that makes the world go round..." and no-one else can be their MOTHER.
It's true. It's much better Fluff and her family love and cherish the kids than be indifferent and make them feel awkward. I know how it must be hard though for you - I doubt anyone else in your position would feel any different but you are dealing amazingly with it and it's truly wonderful. Plus you're dead right. NO ONE can ever be their mother but you. :)
ReplyDeleteVeg, your'e spot on... and thanks for the kind comments.
ReplyDeletethe bottom line is 'no one else can be theit mother the way you can!
ReplyDeleteHey...It's Mr A.....Smith! You finally made it in.Welcome and thanks.
ReplyDelete