CAREGIVER DIARIES: LESSONS

There are situations that have been going on for your entire life; that began long before you were born. It's like a cancer that spreads from person to person for generations. 

The more you learn the truth about the history of the players; the more that elders reveal, as a result of their now filter-less, uncensored speech, the more you understand why things and people are the way they are--and you eventually come to greatly pity them. 

They are much too old to be so bitter and divisive. Their lives could be, and could have been so much more productive and joyful. They could have improved themselves; renewed their minds; been better and done better; loved and encouraged more, and hated and criticized less. 

They exhausted their own relationships; mistreated and damaged those close to them, and now they're in search of other lives to infect. They chose not to love; not to examine the impact of their actions and words; not to repent, and now they rage against light, use the Bible as a weapon against others, and fail to see themselves and their own faults in their own misery. They fail to see their own need for redemption, and attack whatever good they encounter.

The impact of oppression, abandonment, lack, bitterness, jealousy, abuse, and broken dreams is palatable. They have always been trying to draw you in; to initiate you, but you have no desire to participate. They are a living example of what you don't want to be. Their dispositions are repelling. Fortunately, you were always taken far away from it, and entrusted to the loving embrace of those who wanted, cherished, invested in, and valued you. The troubled ones couldn’t see why you preferred the company of peaceable people.You cherish the memory and teaching of those sainted people to this day. 

By grace, you rose above the negativity that tried to impact you; you were taught to excel, to use and share your gifts, to see and find beauty; to embrace peace. The loving ones tried their best to shield and protect you from the ugliness, but even as a child you sensed it, and made a mental note:
"They are mean, sad, and cruel. They do not smile."

They're destructive and envious. There's trouble, arguments, and tears when they come around; a suffocating, divisive spirit shows up; you no longer feel at ease; something is very wrong. They are very angry, hurtful, antagonistic, tactless, bullying, critical and dismissive. You don't trust them at all. They look at you as if you stink. You're a child, but you taste the hate. You don't want to get close. You'll be interrogated if you do. 

The issue never goes away, it just assumes new forms as you grow older--and as you grow older, you now have the power to avoid it, but it's still there because it's allowed. No one has ever shut it down. That unease; that knot you felt in your stomach as a child shows up, and you recognize it immediately. 

It says, "Excuse yourself from this toxic space. Save yourself. Find a safe, nurturing place to be. Celebrate those who celebrate you." 

The nurturing ones taught you well. "Guard your heart"; "If you lie down with dogs, you'll get up with fleas"; "Don't pay them no mind, Baby. Some people just don't know any better".

You think as they grow older, they'd stop, but they don't know any other way to be. They thrive in dysfunction. You look at the tired faces of ancestors in old photos. Is this the person who raised them? Who taught them? Who failed to teach them? Who neglected them? Who failed to protect them? Who hurt them so much that all they know how to do is hurt others? Who was too broken and weary themselves to be any good to them? What would you learn if you could trace their lives? Why are they so hateful?

It's not your fight. It's not your beef, but the object of such bitterness--one of the ones who tried to shield you--perhaps your mother-- is no longer here; she's finally free from the drama. Death should lay a lot to rest, but unfortunately, it doesn't. Imps aren't ever quite satisfied, and now you're their new target. They hated her. You look like her. Friends say, "She's alive in you". She was wise, kind, gracious, lovely, generous, and intelligent. She drew people to her. With venom the hateful ones say, "Umph. You got all your momma's ways". To you, it's a huge compliment. To them, it's the height of insult. You've put a dampener on their celebration of her demise by being so much like her. Everything about her still radiates--in you and your sisters, daughters, and nieces. It makes them frustrated and uncomfortable. She dealt with it--gracefully. She would want you to, as well. She's gone, and they thought, in their twisted thinking, that they would assume her position. They thought they could replace her, and erase you. It's now in your face again, the leers and the backhanded comments designed to trip you into endless, pointless conversations. They come to her home and mishandle her things, and rummage, and make messes, and take inventory and covet, and try to make you feel like you don't belong. They still throw the barbs you felt as a child, and frankly, you're tired of it, but you're not a child any more. 

There is much you could do or say, but you don't. They meddle, and push, and accuse, and attempt to micromanage and bully you. They aim to show you who they are. You know what they are, and so you decline to wrestle with them. They're like a swarm. They're relentless--every day trying to annoy you from a distance; constantly trying to form manipulative relationships with opportunistic people (they think have some influence and access) for the sole purpose of gaining information. They rail and scream, and demand your attention and try to upset the harmony you enjoy and the order you establish. They're furious that you don't, and won't engage. 

If they could only see you shaking your head. They badmouth you and lie. They want to know where you are; what you're doing; how you're doing it. They hate that you are where they want to be, and that you've elected to ignore them. You now know that they are a pitiful swarm without stingers. You wish you could respect them because of who they are, but they've never earned it. Your memories of them are filled with the trouble they always caused. That trouble always subsided, but the residue remained-- until the next time. You've always wondered why no one made them stop.

Today, they have no power. They're older and slower, and their countenances display years of unhappiness. They just make noise now, and they even turn on each other and their own. Their schemes fail over and over again, and they exhaust themselves trying to dominate you. With all that they could focus their attention on, they now want a fight with you. They even think they can poison your own against you, because their own relationships are so fractured, dysfunctional, and unloving. 

Fortunately, you were taught well. Love raised you. Thank God, praise GOD for the nurturing ones who demonstrated what it was like to exist in harmony, peace, safety, and comfort; who taught you the importance of establishing and maintaining boundaries. You know to do what is right no matter what; when to speak and when to ignore. 

You don't have to get your hands dirty. God is a much better wrestler than you. When you tag him, you don't ever have to get back into the ring. 

He can handle it--and them. 
Rest.