BIRTHDAY MIRACLES

In spite of the tension that defines our relationship, my ex and I co-hosted a beautiful day and evening for our older son’s birthday.  MIRACLES: Our precious TRUSTED OTHERS were available and PRESENT for this day.  In addition to Will’s sweet friends and their families, my best friend of 40 years, who knows everything of me (my FOO, marriage, divorce, and the triangulation of my ex with my sister) showed up to 100% support.  I let him know before hand that she was here for US, our family, not Team Magda.  Her warm, friendly support is wholesome and badass magic.  It is painful to reflect how people in our(his and my own) families behave as if- love is demonstrated by hating your enemies with you or demonstrating and gossiping overt displeasure and coldness for people who fail to submit and revere.  But, see, my friends and trusted others have a God and souls and strive to serve and elevate others, rather than themselves.  I am crying, overwhelmed by what Mary Ann does for us– nearly certain I would struggle mightily to do for another, what she does, with what seems pure grace and ease.  I was raised differently and I am reparenting myself and unlearning as fast as I am able, in my program of recovery– learning to be open to wholesome love and to offer it and be grateful for it and to put space between anything that looks or feels like NON-LOVE….unwholesomeness.

I wished, the boys’ father were capable of recognizing what THIS is and why it was possible: the gift of having Mary Ann here to join and connect us and to love us without a trace of contempt or judgment for all that she knows of him.  What an example for our boys, that loyalty and love look like that. She is fiercely loyal to OUR family and our friendship and would do anything for me and for US.  That is the type of LOVE, I want them to recognize and choose.  LOVE shows up.  My heart is literally going to explode.  Weepy, as I type this, a level of sensitivity, never fully appreciated by my FOO.  Tears of Joy and Humility.

In my foo and that of my ex, it is the culture to diminish people as a show of alliance and collective power.  While I cannot make it/them stop or be different, I do believe this miraculous event tips the spiritual scale back in a more wholesome direction.  I am beyond grateful for my own courage to change the things I can.  There is no way for me to know how the boys’ father experienced the celebration(quite possibly he did not like it at all), but he appeared to enjoy what we were able to co-create for our children, in spite of all of the flame fanning from our very similar sisters, both eager to possess him. (gagging emoji here)

Our sons are over the moon and have declared it a Best Day Ever and continue to ask why it had to end.  And while the gifts and the climbing party were great, the thing which they are savoring is the vibe, the connection and unity of being surrounded by and in sync with people they trust; doing, eating, being, and feeling exactly as they like and need.  No scripts.  No forcing.  All hearts open to the flow, no single person in control (Ok, I controlled and orchestrated some logistics, but not the vibe)- BUT altogether we shared a collective purpose and the results were priceless.  One agenda—serve the children to their hearts’ content.

Thank you, God.  Thank you, Mary Ann.   We are sisters and BFFs.  Thank you to my recovery community.  Miracles are difficult and painful and as Glennon says “Brutiful”.  I am immensely proud to have been able to do this for our sonS.  It was difficult and scary and uncomfortable for a multitude of reasons, AND it was right AF.  I will do anything for my boys- which is nurturing for their souls and spirits and protective of their precious innocence.  So grateful. xoxoxoxoxo

I wished my ex and I could sit together and reflect on the badassery we can model for our children, as we did when we first began working together as coparents, to get them into a homeschool program and then again we moved cross country together, as a family.  Divorced, but family–Together.

 

Much Love,
Magda Gee

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