Cast Off

How far have we to go, sir? a seaman in the cast off boat asked wearily of Captain Bligh.
Don't let your mind dwell on that, lad, the captain replied almost kindly, think of how far we've come.

Being a cast off child means an endless search for acceptance and approval, a watchfulness for demons around each corner, a constant expectation of disappointment. It leads to making bad choices for desperate reasons, erecting walls to keep people at a distance, suspicion and an inability to trust. Painful, angry memories are always just below the surface, waiting to explode and shatter whatever good thing you may stumble onto. You look for and usually find the worst, forgetting that balance overcomes eventually and that the playing field will level out. You never quite learn how to forgive but you do learn how to confront the demons and put them in their place. It's a start.

Friends, in this case, my dear friend Tricia, point out that if I had had a mother who loved her children, I might've missed the amazing, strange, and wonderful people I knew as a child, might never have known the love of a place that has endured for over 60 years. In an intact family, there might've been stability and security, even safety but I might've missed the intimacy with my grandmother and all the characters she collected. I might never have discovered the strength and support of The Twelve Steps or learned true independence. I would never have been drawn to Lee, who became my surrogate mother and loved me through it all, would never have met her daughter whose friendship I treasure so dearly. Life with the love of a mother might've been easier but almost certainly it would've been less colorful and far less of an adventure.

Cast off and adrift, with not enough food or fresh water and motivated only by a need to survive and a thirst for revenge, Captain Bligh reached England. So shall I, by concentrating not on how far there is to go, but how far I have come.