Stories I Won't Tell

Like some people, blogging is a form of therapy for me. It is also a way to record my memories so they can survive a muddled brain that is constantly pushing out wonderful memories in favor of needless information.

I have found a new therapy. Because of high gas prices, I am saving $100 a month by riding my bike to work instead of driving. Biking is my new therapy. I spend over an hour a day on my bike. That is a long time to ponder life, my relationships and God. Sometimes I think of wonderful things to blog about, but those thoughts are gone by the time I sit down in front of a computer.

My objective in blogging has always been to share about the positive aspects of my family. I am going to break this rule in order to explain why this is so important to me.

I don’t have very many good memories of my childhood. I didn’t have a bad childhood, I just don’t remember the good times. There is a reason for this. My family found it amusing to talk about the mistakes we made as children. Remember the time you …

… told your brother to run away.
… got kicked off the school bus for __________.
… blah, blah, blah. You really screwed up that time.

These stories are usually followed by laughter, but it is the strained kind that hides the underlying pain and embarrassment. My childhood memories are made up of these moments, not because they are memorable, but because they are recounted until the memory of me in my younger years only consists of bad decisions, broken relationships and hard times.

I don’t want this for my children. I am committed to not writing about their mistakes and lapses in judgment. I will not talk about how sisters fight, because I don’t want them to remember the fights. I want them to remember the hugs.


So for now, I am silent. Life is good. We are happy and healthy. The peace in our home is a haven found in between moments of strife. It is difficult for children to learn how to interact with their peers in a kind and caring way. It is unfortunate that as children we hone our social skills through conflict with our siblings. It is a blessing when we reach adulthood and are able to put behind past hurt and have a loving relationship with our brothers and sisters.

Maybe I am trying too hard to facilitate a healthy relationship between my girls. Maybe, like everything else that is important in my life, I should give this important task to God through prayer. After all what power do I have over the future relationship of my daughters?

This is something I will ponder on my bike ride home.