DAILY POST CHALLENGE

CALLING BACK THE DEAD FOR DINNER

Topic #237: Assemble your dream dinner guest list. Think of all the famous, or infamous, people living or dead, and pick 6 to share a fine meal with. Who do you pick? Why? What do you expect to happen?

My guests would all be dead except for one.   And my list includes eight people, not six. My mother and father, my  brother Tommy,  my dead best friend who died when we were estranged, my maternal grandmother who I hated as a child, my maternal grandfather,  my  living brother and maybe the good Jew Jesus to serve as interviewer and mediator, although my hope is that  death would have made mediation un-necessary.  I would expect this to be  a dinner where we dine on love.

I had what I call a sandpaper relationship with my mother.  One shrink described her as “confused.”   Several as abusive. She definitely had her moments, and I would say she was emotionally abusive at times, enough so that it did me some harm.  Now that I am a wise old one, I  know all things considered, she was more than good enough, and better than many of her generation.  David’s mother never picked him up when he cried–that was the parenting science of the moment as were spankings that were a bit more than a swat on a padded rump; my brothers were strapped, but only for extreme offenses and rarely, but marks were left and that would be child abuse today.  Even padded seats on the rump are cause for people reporting you to the authorities.  When my mother was being raised, most parents  were abusive in one way or another>   To my mother’s great credit, I do not recall being spanked or strapped or slapped.

I  know my mother was physically abused by her sister and probably by others in the family.  I also know my grandmother was so self involved that it probably saved my mother’s sanity that there were nannies.  “Girls” as my grandmother called them in her letters.  I would be hoping to come to a place of love toward my mother’s mother; her father would be invited because he died when I was three and I have no memories of him.

I also  know little about my father’s childhood other than that he was orphaned early and  dependent on the mercy of his sisters and their husbands.  All he every said about his childhood was that there was enough yelling and fighting to last a life time.  He was a peace-maker and care-giver. I would mainly want to hug him and thank him for giving me the love Mom found so hard to share.

My dead  brother I would just like to hug.

I would ask forgiveness of my former best friend, but also hope that she would be able to understand that she was part of the dance that drove us apart.

My living brother would be there to hug and better understand all.

When my mother died, she blessed me with her loving presence for three days before moving on.  From the moment of her passing, I felt a blanket of love enfolding me., then she gently left.  At the time,  I was  not someone who believed  in trans-world communication, that experience made me a believer and my main goal of the dinner would be to partake of that love.  To me heaven is a spirit of love that understands all and forgives all. So my dinner with the departed.

Who would you want to attend your dinner of the departed and why?

Share, care, and stay strong.

Agree or disagree, comments are always welcomed.

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