Letting Go

Other people’s monkeys and The Summer of Suck

Pilot and I have looked back upon this year with a fresh lens and dubbed Summer 2023 as “The Summer of Suck.“

While I’m a firm believer of “Any day above ground is a good day,” as stated by Gene Simmons’ mother, it still doesn’t always remove the sting out of a rough period in one’s life.

June 2023 was one of the most challenging yet. We had purchased a used van—yes, we became “van people”—and four days after purchase it died. Was in the shop for ONE MONTH, and after two weeks after a month of work, it died again while I was on the freeway with my child in the backseat. All for us to turn around, sell it back to the dealership and bought a different van. Luckily, this one is still running. (Keep those fingers crossed and prayers up.)

A family member broke their wrist earlier this summer. Their other wrist. They first broke their left wrist about two years ago and required surgery. This time, they broke the right wrist, which also required surgery. Two of Pilot’s family members were in and out of the emergency room 4 times in 6 weeks. They’re still recovering.

I’ve lost contact with another family member. This particular person has had a rough go at life, made poor decisions, had difficulty in the romance department and been heartbroken many times. If cutting themselves off from our family is what is needed for that person to find peace and joy within their life, I wish them well, and I’ll explain why further down. The remainder of my side of the family is still really confused, but we hope this person comes back if they want to.

My (now former) best friend, of the last eight years had two people from their life come up to me on separate occasions within the same week indicating that I was “too poor to be my (former) bestie’s friend,” in front of said (former) bestie, and my (former) bestie didn’t stick up for me. These two elitist people are ones in friend’s life that she openly, and quite frequently, complained about during the course of this eight-year friendship, and she often wondered why she kept them in her life. And she would mention these feelings to me about them. While I never expect anyone to fight my battles, I’d at least like to think a person who identified as my ‘best friend’ would at least be willing to stand with me during said moments of discomfort. She did not. I ended said friendship. Who wants to stay friends with someone who, by omission of any backup, must obviously believe the same thing? She treated me more like an assistant the last year of our friendship than an actual friend. It’s a bad habit of mine to become a doormat for the sake of friendship, and unfortunately, I learned this lesson again. However, I stuck up for myself this time, said no negative things to her, and instead wished her well in a “break up friendship text,” hoping they find happiness in their future, without me in it, and I moved on.

Another of Pilot’s family members and one of their kids has determined that not only do they wish us a bad life and misfortune, but they also hate me specifically regarding things I had zero involvement with.

Have you ever been hated? It’s a strange feeling to know there are two people in the world who feel my existence is enough to have a negative impact upon their lives—people I see maybe 5-6 times per year, and we don’t live anywhere near each other or in a situation where our paths would cross outside of family get-togethers. (Enter shrug here.) In reality, they are dealing with an extremely real villain within their own home but choose to focus their pain into hatred against me because it’s easier choosing to find strength within themselves to leave the monster at home. Luckily, it’s been made clear to me by other members of Pilot’s family, Pilot’s parents, and super obvious to myself anyway, that they are the ones with the problems, and they have a lot of pain they’re working through. I happened to be in the crosshairs of their pain rage against the monster at home, and they decided to keep me there instead of focusing on the extremely real and present danger in their lives.

Is it fair? No.
Is it sane? No.
Do I care? Well… that’s a complicated answer.

Is it a good feeling to be hated? No. Do I like the idea of someone out there feeling my existence is enough to cause rage in their day (beyond the usual crowd of bigots and/or misogynists)? No. As far as trying to repair this bridge they set on fire, while I wasn’t even in the same town of said bridge, I’m not the one with the problem. I’m happy to see them at Christmas and wish them well. Will I still continue crocheting hats for the 3/3 kids despite 1/3 hating me? Yup. Will we be there if there’s an emergency and they need something? Of course, they’re still humans and we should all care and support our fellow humans. These people have zero impact on how I problem solve, make decisions, act within my marriage, act within my home, parent Buddy Bacher, or treat my side of the family. Their issues are widely known, and they continually choose to go back to the same cycle of problems instead of leaving the shitshow. Pilot and I simply hope they don’t end up on Dateline someday.

Pilot and I have been together for over twenty years now. 20 years. I’d like to think we know each other’s families well enough to know when a problem is us vs them. This is definitely a “them” problem. If they’re in the same room, cool. If not, cool. (Again, insert shrug.) All I can personally say about those two: I hope they find the strength to leave said horror shit-show, may the 3/3 kids not repeat the cycle, and may they learn how to build happiness and healthy, positive relationships within their own lives, because they deserve that.

Embrace the words of Keanu Reeves:

“I’m at that stage in life where I stay out of discussions.
Even if you say 1 + 1 = 5, you’re right! Have fun!”
– Keanu Reeves

If it doesn’t directly impact Pilot, Buddy Bacher, myself, our home, or our day-to-day living—It’s all moot to me. I am other people’s lives neutral at this point. Pilot leveled up to 40 this year. I leveled up to 39. If someone needs to drop contact from me to find peace within their lives, I 100% understand as Pilot and I have also cut ourselves off from others in search of that same inner peace. And you know what? Letting go of the trauma-drama cycle those people have going on that they tried to drag us into, has significantly reduced the stress in our home, how we spend our free time, and it’s opened both Pilot and I up to having time for our hobbies once again. One perfect example is I’m actually able to write this blog again.

The peace comes once you embrace the lesson from The Summer of Suck, which is:
Not my circus, not my monkeys.

smells like teen spirit

She’s overboard and self-assured.

At least, that’s how I felt my first day moving into my college dorm room years ago.

Ok, we don’t necessarily need to point out exactly how long ago.

Today’s DWC is focused on the “end of an era.” It made me think back to my first day at college and what my parents might have been going through.  It was a much more crazy day than my character’s family dealt with.

Mine was filled with all types of stuff being hauled in and out of hallways. New students passing each other, bumping into each other, knocking boxes out from each other, all wide-eyed and pretending to be confident.

My high school friend and his parents were on the floor above me getting Randy* settled into his dorm.  Not fifty feet away from me, my future husband was moving into his.  I wouldn’t meet Pilot for three more weeks.

I wonder how many times my parents and I must have passed him and his parents in the hallways that first day.  It boggles the mind how my life literally changed directions, all under the same roof in a matter of months.

For my mom and dad, today’s DWC is for you.

*Name has been changed for privacy

Daily Writing Challenge

Day 22: Today is the end of an era in your characters life. How do they feel about this? What is happening today? Write a scene of your character on this day.

Looking around the tiny space, it still amazes me how all of that furniture fit in one room.  The shelves above and below the bed, the tiny desk, and the part mini refrigerator, part microwave combination.  Ellie began to hang her clothing in the closet. I helped setup some family photos while Henry setup her computer.

A flash appeared in my mind.  A five-year-old Ellie standing with her Sesame Street backpack and her pigtails in the middle of her kindergarten classroom.

“No, Mommy! Don’t go! I don’t want to be here!”

I crouched down to her eye level and gave her a squeeze.  “Honey, it’s going to be fine. You’re going to make new friends and your teacher Mrs. Johansen is nice.”

Ellie’s lip trembled. “But I want to go home!”

I gave her a squeeze.  “Ellie, this is your first day of school, and I know it can be scary. But I’ll be back at lunchtime and we’ll go out for a family lunch to celebrate!”

Henry picked Ellie up and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “That’s right, sweetie pie! We can go anywhere you want.”

Ellie’s eyes lit up. “Even the place with the big bird?”

Henry laughed, “Yes. We can go to Red Robin.”  He gave her a conspiratorial look, touching his forehead to hers.  “You might even get a balloon if you’re good for Ms. Johansen.” Ellie’s eyes widened as she gasped.

“I’ll be good Daddy! I promise!  Love you!” She said squirming to get to her cubby.

Henry laughed.  “Good girl!” he said setting her down.  “Now go put your backpack away in that special cubby Ms. Johansen picked just for you.”

I watched her pigtails bounce as she ran to halfway to her cubby, then stop.  She whipped around and ran back to me.

Ellie, my precious baby girl gave me a kiss on the cheek. She smelled like baby shampoo and Ellie-ness.  I squeezed her again as tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

“Mommy, I can’t breathe!” she said, her voice muffled by my shoulder.

“Sorry honey. I hope it’s a terrific first day!”  I released her a little bit, kissing her forehead.

“Love you Mommy! Bye Daddy!”

I watched as she scampered away.  Now I was seeing Ellie standing in her college dorm room tentatively as if waiting for an answer.

“I’m sorry, honey. What was that?” I blinked.

Ellie rolled her eyes.  “I was just saying the RA’s are probably going to want us to assemble soon.”

“Oh.”  I paused.  “Are you sure you have enough pillows and blankets?  Winters get awfully cold here.”

“Mom, I’m fine. I have everything I need,” she said smiling at me, slinging her arm around my shoulder.  She glanced around.  “In fact, I think I have enough blankets to create a giant pillow fort for me and twelve roomates.”

“Louise, leave Ellie alone. She’s going to be fine,” Henry said taking my hand in his, gently pulling me away.

Ellie put her hands on her hips. “Besides, I’m going to come home and see you in a couple of weeks after orientation and after I get used to my class schedule,” shooing us out the door.  I broke free from Henry’s steering to give her one more hug.

Henry and I pulled away from the curb. A sniffle escaped as the car wound down the road.  As we continued, a tear escaped down my cheek.  Henry handed me the box of tissues.

“Oh, Louise. She’ll be fine.  You’ll be fine.”

I wiped the tears from my eyes. Glancing over at Henry, I swiped a tissue and handed him one.

“Oh, hell,” was all he said as he took my hand.  We watched Ellie’s figure which was waving goodbye to us shrink in the mirrors.

“She’s all grown up now, Henry.  What do we do?”

“Same thing we did before.”  He glanced at me and smiled.  “We send her off into the world, hope we’ve taught her enough to do the right things and pray she’ll always want to come back to us.”