A Good Weekend

Growing up, my weekend usually involved spending most of the day Saturday with my mom and my grandmother at my grandmother's house. I adored Grammy, but at some point, I felt stifled by the routine, the escape to a "normal" home. Honestly, my grandmother was a mild hoarder too. She never let her homes get to a point where things didn't work or people couldn't come in...but she kept things that probably had little or no value "because someday someone might need this."

Nowadays, I struggle with finding balance. I want my children to get to know their grandparents, but I struggle with forcing them to spend time away from their social circles. I know this, and I ask my husband to help me find balance. And he is wonderful to encourage me, or to tell me that I'm off the deep end. I try to always remain open to his input although sometimes I don't like what he says.

It's Friday, and I'm looking forward to a wonderful weekend with a group of phenomenal COHs...it's going to be a good weekend!

What is your ideal weekend? What does it look like? How is it different from your childhood weekends??? Inquiring minds want to know!


Photo borrowed from Cajun Crawfish Pie

Lessez les bon temps roulez!

Comments

cynthia said…
Great having you here and I feel like I've made a good friend. How great is that???
July 22, 2011 at 5:49 PM
Anonymous said…
I'm a hoarder myself, though I've learned to keep it under control over the years by buying only consumables, unable to explain to anyone how it distresses me when dear, loving friends buy me gifts. So many times I've tried, just taking one shelf or just one drawer. It takes massive willpower to push myself to touch those things I've set aside, and I would weep the entire time. I've wasted days just trying to clear one shelf. Which is why I gave up, but ameliorated the problem by not buying anything that I cannot eat.

I'm an intelligent professional and have tried desperately to understand how stuff can cause such pain. At first I told myself it was just thrift. I'd look at an item of clothing and think how hard I had to work for the money to pay for it. Can't throw it away. But over time realised it went deeper than that. When my mother died, my father remarried within months. His new wife moved in and (understandably, I thought at the time) redecorated; removed all traces of my mother. But it was mind-boggling to leave for school one day and return to what was no longer my home; nothing familiar. She then abused me and when I left home, she destroyed everything of mine that I couldn’t pack into my little suitcase: beloved toys, mementoes, books, medals and awards, everything I had to leave behind. I always thought I was trying to recreate the things of my childhood that I should have been allowed to sort through and discard or keep. Now I realise it's more complex than that.
July 27, 2011 at 3:28 AM
Ceci G. said…
rosehopebc--Thank you so much for sharing here! I am touched by your honesty. I know it can be very difficult to admit that there is a problem or a weakness, and even more difficult to share the emotional components.

I can only imagine how painful it was to see someone new wipe away all evidence of your mother, and as a child coming up with the idea that you needed to collect things and keep them so that you remained "real and present"! While I don't have attachment to objects, I understand how an object can trigger an emotion or a memory and be highly valued.

I hope that you are able to keep friendships and relationships above your things. I truly believe that is the worst part of hoarding, when it comes between the people who want to be close to you. But perhaps you've already seen that in your own life.

Again, I have deep respect for your willingness to share here! I will pray for your strength (which is already more than you know) to continue to grow. I believe you can find healing and recovery! God Bless!
July 27, 2011 at 10:07 AM
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