A Father & a Dad.

My father Bo died when I was two years old. 

It may have happened in 1984 but, it still hurts today. My brother T, was still in the womb when it happened, it was horribly unfair to him. I frequently wonder who I would have be if I'd had Bo in my life longer, it's an unusual struggle.

We were fortunate to be raised by our mother & when she remarried D in 1987, he adopted us. Sometimes I feel a little guilty for missing Bo because it's almost like downplaying the role my Dad has/had. I should probably skip the guilt & instead feel lucky to have two men that were willing to be our father, we have a father(Bo) & a dad(D). And because we have dad, we have a little brother, B. But, my brain makes assumption-would be-comparisons between fathers because my relationship with my Dad has never been perfectly smooth, which, I think it's no ones fault, just that my spirit has always known a different father.

A few years ago I asked my mom why when I was three, did I had name a pet rabbit Pooter? She explained that Bo called me Pooter & that I had been a little daddy's girl. It felt like a punch in the gut since I'd never known I had at one time been a daddy's girl, it was the complete opposite of where I stand in my Dad relationship. With Dad I have always insisted on my independence.

My wedding day was especially tough for me in this respect. I wanted to honor both men, so I had my biological last name hyphonated to my middle name on the invitations, my Dad walked me down the asile, & then the pastor acknowledged that Bo was there in spirit. But I still wished Bo had been sitting there on the front row as I began that new part of my life. 

I got an email today with a picture of Bo & I in 1982 & it stirred up the emotions that prompted this post. I am the spitting image of my father & as my brother T gets older I see more & more of Bo in his eyes, they make some of the same facial expressions too. 

Not knowing Bo as more than a face in pictures-I sometimes feel as though he wasn't real. My little arm resting on his shoulder proves that he was, I actually touched him, that he held me & loved me. Looking at this picture it's hard not to feel cheated that I can't reach out to him now.
 My grandmother spent so much of her time with me telling me about him but, I don't think that she ever recovered from his passing-his life & death were a huge part of her identity. I'm grateful for her commitment to keeping his memory alive but I don't think of him everyday, I have my moments when I look at photos or have a life event.
Like I said: it's an unusual struggle, I have difficulty processing & absorbing being the child of a dead father & a living dad.

Little Eyes

Friday night I was slumped on the couch after an exhausting work week.

I was just about to try to motivate myself to find some sort of housework to tackle when my sweet friend L.A.V.H, sent me this out of the blue:

Link to source

And to think,

when their little eyes opened, 

the first thing they saw was the 

face of Jesus.

The face of Jesus statement affected me so profoundly that I immediately began to cry, not sad tears but, tears of amazement that they missed the pain & trauma of this world & were born directly to eternal life into the arms of Jesus! His face is the first & only sight that those sweet little eyes peeked out at. He is their Father. 

WOW! 

I haven't ever thought of my babies in that sense before-I was mindblown, a friend metioned a long time ago that I had angel babies in heaven but, this was a whole new thought. A thought that is so simple & true that I cannot fathom why it had never occured to me before.

I still want to have those babies here with me right now but, what an amazing alternative.

 I completely believe that I will meet my children someday, that we will be able to communicate with one another, and that they will occupy bodies (or whatever) of the person they were intended to be. We will have a joyous reunion, until then I have an amzing quote to help me through the tough days when I feel incomplete without my sweet little babes.

IQ

First of all, I believe my intelligence is most evident in an artistic sense & that artistic smarts are hard to test with numbers & symbol matching. Secondly, IQ test apps are killer for my ego. I took a test last week on the Ipad (since lately I seem to be into tests but , I do question if they are legit) & I should have used a scratch piece of paper to help me solve but, I thought I'd be a badass & just eyeball it. I ended up with a score just slightly above average. I'm the gal that rarely plays board games because I can't stand to lose & I feel like I failed the stupid test. Then I made the mistake of telling my husband the score, he still loves me just the same but did reveal his genius level IQ score after my confession, jerk. The man could be in Mensa or work for NASA or hold his own up against Einstein. After his revelation, all I want is to be a smartypants damnit, I just want to keep up! I told him he better hope & pray that our unborn children get his intelligence, otherwise dad will be a miserable frustrated mess helping with homework. As much as I wish it would, being good with color & design doesn't help a young kid out in school-I speak from experience. I think I'm going to retake the stupid test until I come out with an even better score, would that count?

Personality

Recently I have become very interested in the psychology of personality types. Not only do I find it interesting but I also want a better understanding of who I really am. After taking a personality quiz based on the writings of C. Jung, I found that I am an ISFJ. As I read the description of an ISFJ I was floored by its accuracy, they should take out ISFJ & just write Aubrey in its place. It was almost like one of Oprah's Aha! moments. For the first time why I say, think, & feel all the things that I do-was so clear.

I feel that I'm here on this earth to take care of others, in some way, shape, or form. I take rules literally & thrive when I know my boundaries. I am trustworthy & often told "no one knows this but you". I remember emotions & expressions explicitly, & accurately judge ones intentions behind them. 

But with these "good" traits there must be a few "bad", I don't say "no" well, I give until I'm sucked dry-I don't know when to stop, I won't confront an issue-instead I will allow it to build, boil,  & instead of erupting I will simply quit the person. Theses are not traits that I enjoy having, if I have quit you it has been a defense mechanism, one that has taken month or years to of quiet pain to take effect. When associating with me you will probably immediately find me to be reliable, consistent, & a touch judgemental-good luck but know that I always expect even more from myself than I will from you. What Jung personality are you, take the test online. You might be surprised what you find out & I'll cross my fingers that you have your own Aha! moment.(they are the best!)