Author: bjukuri

I just finished Kerry Washington's Memoir "Thicker than Water".  The main theme of the book is honesty – or perhaps the lack of it growing up.

In listening to her story, there were moments that helped explain me to – Me.

In families, and particularly in the relationships between parent and child – a child feels the space where the lies live.  We may not be able to articulate what is missing – but we more feel – what is not there.

Truth has a solid spaceless feeling.

In truth our body relaxes.

Lies leave us without anything to hold on to or feel secure with.

It explains so much about my lack of connection. It was like I was adrift – before I actually became estranged.

I wasn't able to love the space where lies lived.

And I blamed myself for not loving – for not feeling the closeness and warm feelings.

She wrote about how her mother, once the truths were spoken, was able to look deeply into her eyes.   

This.

I remember how hard it was to keep eye contact with my mother.  Both on her end and mine. I am sure this was normal in our home, the not looking looking.

Don't they say that eyes are windows into our souls.

I am aware of how my denial of my own truths, had effects on my relationships.  And more, how when I allowed myself to be with my truths, how it changed me.

The secrets, the abuse and even the denial – all left me in a very untethered unknowing place. Both about the secrets and yet mostly about me.

You can't know who you are – without truth.

(I understand these quilts more now.)

When I try to go back to who I was back then I don't have a clear picture.  But I was living without knowing the secrets or that even I kept secrets.

Oh, and one thing that Kerry talked about is – when her parents kept secrets, it also made her keep secrets.  Like the truth wasn't welcome there.

Interesting to be raised learning how to keep your truth quiet.

Her mother protected her with lies and she protected her mother with lies.

But lies do not build relationships.

Folks often keep secrets, thinking they will save the relationship, and what they are actually are doing is destroying it or not giving it a chance to grow.

I am thinking it isn't even the lies themselves, they are huge – but what matters more is empty space or hole it creates. And the weird way we learn to leave the truth out of relationships.

The effect this has on children who try to grow and love among lies – is immeasurable. 

When I look at the environment I was raised in and how truth was scarce between myself and my parents, I see its costs.

The one two punch of abuse and lies – left me in a very precarious place to grow.

Her book also explains to me how truth means so much now.

Why I feel so strongly.

It isn't the secrets themselves that are so damaging, which they are. But how it is impossible to have a good relationship while they are hidden.

This may not make sense to anyone – but it sure has put in another puzzle piece for me.

In how I was built so awkwardly in the land of secrets.

I love when I find another puzzle piece – which helps me understand why I was the way I was – and how I grew that way.

We grow like the environment we live in.

I could weep for my child self.

And how she tried so hard – how the world was set against her from the very beginning.

There was no way I could have come out normal and natural – from whence I came.

Yet, I am so humbled at where we landed.

I am okay living with the need for truth and authenticity.  I love folks who hold no secrets.

Those with secrets will feel my distance – and I am okay with that.

I love her title, "Thicker than Water" for we all know the common phrase blood is thicker than water.  What I know is that families who harbor secrets are families with watered down relationships.

The mask we often wear is to keep the secret from being known.

Ghosts from my past can walk up at anytime and say hello. They can ask how I am doing and then go for a swim. They can lay on the beach and read for hours near me.

It is all curious.

Curious we are sisters.

Living worlds apart.

Very close today.

Completely different.

Other relatives swam – I didn't recognize them.

A beautiful beach afternoon – overcast with memories.

Sunshine, warm sand, clear water – two strangers now.

There is much unknown.

Her path and mine.

I don't know hers.

She can't know mine.

Words that could fill the lake – would leave us both exactly where we are.

Estranged.

The little wave – when we first recognized each other – would have been enough acknowledgement for me.

I am curious – but not really wanting to engage.

So, it was shocking to hear a voice come up along side of me – saying Hi.

The pleasant niceties lasted a minute or two.

I wonder what propelled her to me.

Being kind?

We both brought family with us to the lake.

Our chance encounter – wasn't like we 'wanted' to meet. That she sought me out – but once I was in her line of vision – she approached.

Not the time for deep investigating into her world – into her choices and how were they working.

Comparing – maybe our lives.

I would have questions – how would she answer.

Who is she now?

I wonder if her denial is deeper – or are there cracks starting to show.

I wonder what she saw as she looked at me?

Mostly I watched two girls play, giggle and have the best day.

I sat there grandma – grateful of my choice to be estranged.

Grateful for the separation.

Hand stitching on a quilt.

Sun warm on my body.

Waves in my ear.

My heart at peace with my choice.

The ghosts of my past were on the left of me – and on my right the future.

Her innocence is worth the distance I have walked from my family of origin – worth feeling the awkwardness of a stranger we once knew.

Sitting there I felt my age or maybe more, my wisdom and empowerment – my strength.

The day changes with these encounters – they leave an essence on me – a brush with the past – a lingering of wonder.

I would love a real deep dive into the truths of our lives.

And yet it would be horrifying.

I wonder if she would have sat to have an eye to eye – heart to heart chat?

Perhaps if we were alone.

I wonder what she'd really want to know about me?

Lately nieces have asked to be my friend on Facebook and Instagram. An easy way to approach someone – a distant relative.  I wonder what the nieces would like to know about me?

More, I wonder what they have been told. 

I am the oldest girl in this family of women.

An odd character – I left before some of them were born – or just little babies.

They have always known me as the odd man out.

The old aunt who doesn't come around.

Part of me would love to know their hearts and yet my heart probably couldn't bear it.

The reason for my estrangement comes front and center. The power that propelled me was abuse – my heart knew it couldn't be with those who could see the side of the abuser(s) more than the child.

Sitting on the beach today two sides were there.

We both stood on different sides. 

Between us years of silence.

A photograph of the beach scene today – would not reveal all the interconnected disconnected strings of relatives – together on a beach separated.

All I know is that if any woman/girl in this relative pool asks me why I am out here – my heart will be at peace – for I can fully own my choices to be on this side of history.

The girls who walked away.

Girls who found their self-worth.

Girls who left trying to end the cycle of abuse.

Girls who felt the truth in the bodies that never lie.

Girls who left family – to save family.

I see the relative girls and I wonder.

Wonder what has been communicated and what stays silent.

Wonder if I spoke – would I be heard.

As I go to bed tonight – my heart and soul are peace with the road I am on.

I can't know how the women relatives sleep.

I wonder if one day I will have a heart to heart with one of them.

I hope one is curious as I am.  Who wants to know about the family tree's outcast and why her limb is different.

Today I didn't feel the shame or negative feelings of being different.

Being different today feels like a fun piece of art.

A freedom of expression.

Perhaps like an eccentric aunt.

An odd caricature in the circle of women relatives.

They say the best thing a father can do for his children –  is to love their mother.

My husband didn't have the easiest of roads.

He and I didn't know my past, and when it was revealed – he could have easily cut bait and left.

He not only choose to stay – he learned to love the new me – along with me.  

He was willing to lay our marriage down – and to work instead on ourselves – to find our best versions.  To work with the concept that the marriage is only as good as the people in it.

My breakdown was the worst and hardest thing we experienced together – and yet it has been the most rewarding to see how truth and being ourselves has allowed us both to relax and love without conditions.

Love is easy – when it is kind and beautiful looking.

Love is so much harder when things go sideways.

What I recall is not knowing who I was – and how I could not go back to being blind – and yet I had zero ideas of who I would ultimately become.   And more than all of that – I had the space in my marriage and my home to become.

He did not put any rules upon me.

He and I both allowed the old me to die and the new me to be born.

He not only accepted my truths, he loved me with them.

He loved my wounds.

I felt that my family of origin only wanted the old blind complacent forgiving boundary-less person. They had zero interest in or engaging with my new awareness and truths.

The juxtaposition between how my husband engaged with me – compared to them – is so completely vast – there is no common denominator.

On this one little and gargantuan way of loving me – changed the content of our home.  In how he accepted me – as me – wounded and unknowing who I was – also set the tone in accepting others.  He has shown me it is not only okay to be myself – it is something to be celebrated.

This.

This is what I celebrate in great fathers.

Fathers who love their wives.

Are faithful, kind, loving, respectful, hardworking, hard loving, fun and forever curious —- the list goes on.

I know how lucky my children are – for he loves them the same.

He allows them just to be themselves – and LOVES them as they are.

There is nothing he needs added – for him to love them more.

Our family has love – boundless love because of this man.

Unconditional love – no rules – freedom to be love.

He has a happy Father's Day every day.  

He makes being a father look easy.

Being a grandpa a piece of cake.

For what he truly does best is just allow us all to be.

What I also love about him – is he is always himself.  He doesn't change – he is what you see – there is no mask.  He is unabashedly himself – always.  He is his own man – he follows his own north star.  Just being so content to be himself – has allowed me to settle into being Me.

This love.

Is the love that is our legacy.

We traveled down so many beautiful roads and loved seeing what was around each bend.

By the time we made it home, we had traveled almost 5,000 miles.  That seems unreal to me.  And, I didn't drive once.  My husband prefers to drive and I navigate with an old fashion road atlas on my lap. 

We also use the phone and car navigation.  I can't imagine now how we did it with just road maps.  But we like to have the atlas with us to see what is in the area etc.

We spotted wild life right away – as we started down Needles Highway.  As you can see there was snow there too – and the road was closed 6 miles from the fun part – where there are tunnels.  

Lots of cars were driving around – and we all would have liked to have the road open. I believe it was weeks away from being open.  

However the wildlife loop was open so we drove around.

Still the Jackasses mooching from cars.

Just fun to see different animals.

"Custer State Park in the beautiful Black Hills of western South Dakota is full of lush forests, quiet and serene meadows, and majestic mountains. This 71,000-acre state park is also home to over a thousand bison—one of the world's largest publicly owned bison herds."

From here we headed towards the badlands – and miles closer to home.