Lost love

To love or not to love that is the question?! I turned fifty this year a mum living 3000 miles away from home, and in this journey of life I have asked that question quite a lot. It is true even though this road of being a single mum has been hard I would do it all again to see the smiles or my children's faces. With that being said I grew up in the 1970's and 1980's in a middle class family in Norfolk England. My parents argued a lot, my sister, brother and I were pulled out of school and my sister and I went back but my brother at thirteen never went back to school. He made a living selling eggs in the village we lived in and latter worked for my dad. My brother and dad did not get along very well to be honest there was more tea stains on the wall from cups of tea thrown than wall paper. It was along road being a child that lived in an home full of arguments and as an adult I have looked for the good in it all. I was over the moon when my parents divorced but my mum was not very good with money and life spiraled. My brother eventually took his life and after twenty two years of having nothing to do with my dad I reached out to Salvation Army and found him. I was now divorced and 3000 miles from home. We raised the money and boarded a plane. One could say it was magical we made amazing memories but I was living in a fantasy this man who I had just wanted to love, would not talk about the past would not admit any faults and yet my heart still just wanted to love and forgive it's what I so believed was right. We held hands hugged were called a family all the right words yet no substance. I boarded a plane promises made of my dad paying for flights to come home every two years, eyes flooded as my children and I waved good bye at the station. Yet life did not change my Dad found a new girl friend accused me of being rude when I dared to ask for money to come home and doors began to close. My heart now totally smashed on the North Norfolk shore. I like to remember dancing on my Dad's feet and him singing songs but the songs always had to be the one's he wanted and the notes played on the piano had to played by him. There was no praise for jobs well done of loving art or doing well at school. In fact we all three were simply not good enough. I sent you to private school and fed and clothed you he said but life is more than just that. My escape was my Godmother I loved her, she allowed me to love the countryside and love art and make pottery. Walking home in the dark was not so bad it was my escape. Perhaps in looking back my love for North Norfolk was because of her because really there was none found in the tea stained walls and shouts in the winding drive ways of my childhood. My brother was an amazing artist, my sister she is so talented with sewing but no praise was given by either parent. Where did it all go wrong, were we just living on an alternative planet. I thought that if I forgave I would be loved and I thought if I put my heart continually out to my parents I would be accepted but I was wrong, oh so wrong. My dad has prostrate cancer a new woman in his life and why would you want seven grandchildren and two daughters when you have someone keeping you warm at night. The sad thing is we wanted to be loved, how can you make someone love you who is just so selfish that they only love themselves and that their lies they believe. I don't want to dance on my dad's feet any more or sing songs he sang I will like those songs for me. But my heart aches and I want to dance on Jesus's feet He will hold me tight and He will not fail me like you have Dad.