The weekend came, Heather, Mia and I drove to the Woodlands to see the other side of the family. Well, to put my immediate family in perspective, I have decided to let all the people who read this know where I am coming from.
I came from a broken family. My Mother and Father divorced when I was in grade school. The last thing I remember is my birthday party in a tree house my father and grandparents had built me. After the divorce, I spent the rest of my childhood being bounced from my mother to father. I have lived in over 26 different apartment, houses, duplexes, and not to mention attic space at my aunts, which I remember a lot of squirrels. All in the amount of 9 years. I cannot say I had the roughest childhood and I cannot say I had the worst childhood, but a learning experience for the life journey of building your own family. Kind of like a how-to book on what not to do in the future. But this weekend has showed me a lot. It showed me that I have family that love me and care for me out side of my own family ( Agnes, Nestor, Pam, Zach, Heather, my nephews, and my own children). Not that my mother and father don't care for me, but it is a simple thing like showing that you care and acknowledging the fact that I'm here and I'm not a chore or a burden. I love both of my parents but sometimes a random call or a happy birthday would be nice. Actions speak louder than words in my book. And when little to no effort is made to be a part of mine or my family's life, then it affects me. That is all I have to say about that. I also want those who may take this the wrong way to know that I am grateful and respectful for the most part to both my parents. I just wish there could have been more stability and communication.
Love you all more than you assume I do. I am just tired of being the mediator for communication and care. I have my family and I am doing whatever it takes to make sure that they are well taken care of.
