Anger

A few years ago I delved deep into my genealogy. It was interesting, to say the least, and I discovered that I have from my dads side Irish, and Cherokee Indian, from my moms side Irish, Italian and a little bit of German.

(my daddy and his parents at my brother’s wedding)

 

This post doesn’t have much to do with bloodlines though, other than the fact that if you look at the stereotypes for my heritage(s) I should have a pretty raging temper.

I don’t. Oh, but I get angry. Very Angry.

It just takes a long time for me to get there.

I have a very slow burning fuse, but when I get angry, everyone knows.

Its not a fact I’m proud of, and it is something I am working on.

I am dealing with anger now. It has nothing to do with anything anyone did.

In fact, its not the slow burning fuse kind at all. I am having a hard time dealing with/expressing this anger.

Which is probably obvious from the ramblings of this entry.

When I first heard about Samuel, I cried. And cried, and cried and cried. Then I prayed, I still pray, I haven’t stopped.

We were shopping the other day and I saw an “I love my auntie” bib.

And then I got mad. That’s where I am now. Mad.

Its not fair! And of course it seems every day I see a new “I’m pregnant” announcement. I want to be happy for them, I am, but its not fair!

My brother and sister in law want this baby so bad, they have prayed over this baby for months.  I screamed and yelled when I got the call that they were pregnant. I was over the moon excited! For the past 10 years I dreamed of the day that my brothers and sister would start procreating, cousins playing together, spoiling nieces and nephews. I couldn’t wait.

Its not over, I know its not over. I know that we serve a God of miracles, and that little Sammy could be fine. But I also know that God lets bad things happen to good people sometimes. I don’t understand why, but its true.

I am praying through my anger. I am praying that I will not hurt anyone with my anger, and that my anger will not turn me bitter. I am also praying that everything will be fine, the doctors will be wrong, and in a few months I’ll be driving north to meet my first nephew to spoil him rotten with gifts and kisses.  Aunts and Uncles are special people.

My brother R with Stinkerbell. In the background is S, the daddy-to-be.