This is more like a page in my journal rather than directed at any one person. Any and all input is welcome.

In the last post I mentioned that I may have made some inroads in understanding my "wounded inner child." It's been obvious to me for a while now that when I'm with my grandkids, I turn into a little kid somewhere between 3 and 10. Those ages, for me, were traumatic. I've realized through this and the last board I used to belong to, that I've always battled depression and anxiety in one form or another. My mom used to tell me that she worried about me because I wasn't an active child. I would rather sit on the couch and play with my dolls. When we lived across the street from a park, if she saw kids playing there, she'd take me over and ask the kids if I could play with them. I never did. My inner child was very alone and very lonely. I didn't have any siblings. I had friends from time to time, but only one at a time.

Now I recognize that thwarted, frustrated child when I'm with my grandkids. I was playful with my own kids, but I didn't know about boundaries back then. I was too rough with them and refused to believe them when they told me I was hurting them. My mom used to tell me I had "Apache Love." LOL Whatever that is! Rough, I guess. I'm not rough with my grandkids now. I love to hug them and kiss them, tickle them, have food fights with them, play in the mud with my granddaughter, I no longer get angry when she squirts me with the hose. It used to piss me off so dang bad when I was younger!! I'm amazed when my grandkids show affection for me, want to sit on my lap and eat part of my dinner and feed me bites of their dinner. It amazes me when they run to meet me and want me to pick them up and carry them around... which I can't do. But I do hold them when I'm sitting. I encourage them to be silly and sometimes, to do things that their parents don't want them to do... like playing under the dinner table after they finish eating. (hehehe) I wish I could get under there with them, but I do my fair share of playing anyway. Most of all, and probably the most meaningful is... I need to hug them tight and for a long time (as hugs go). I can feel myself drawing love from them, filling up my senses or my heart or whatever it is that fills up. I can get tearful when my one year old grandson puts his grubby little paws on my face and jabbers at me. I have no objection to his open mouthed kisses and the drool he leaves behind. It tastes good! My ten year old grandson!!!! ... I don't know... there's a magical, wonderful connection between us. I go weak just thinking of him! Sometimes the tears just roll when I think about him or talk about him. My love for him is returned tenfold! I don't understand it! I don't know why he should love me so much! I feel he needs my undivided attention and I can never give him enough! ... Or is it that I can't get enough? I hardly ever get to see them, but his three yr old little brother drinks me up when he's with me. He's so beautiful and so gentle... they both are! So incredibly sweet!!

This isn't a grandma bragging about her grandchildren. This is an old woman with a wounded child within that cries to be let out; that needs to receive and give back that innocent, unconditional love that only children can give. This is a child that was denied... a child that was denied...

<font color=blue>This above all: To thine own self be true. --Shakespeare</font color=blue>