The Home Front

I realized today for the first time why they called it the 'Home Front' during World War II. I guess they wanted to make the housewives feel important by suggesting that what they did at home was like a battle. (You know, the Russian Front, All Quiet on the Western Front, etc.) Well, what could be a more appropriate metaphor for my home? A Battle. Fabulous.
It really hasn't been that bad, I guess. Sure, my parents pick each other, and then my brother, to shreds by turns, but it doesn't really matter. Sure, they make jokes about all the hurtful things they did to me as a child and then expect me to laugh, but that's fine. (And I'm not the least bit bitter, either.)
Before I left SoCal, Dr. Stacey (my psychologist) and I talked about ways for me to 'nurture myself.' Which sure as heck sounds like just so much psycho-babble to me. But Dr. Stacey's not really the psychobabble type. We've been talking a lot lately about how I felt pretty un-nurtured as a kid, how my mom just wasnt' able to be nurturing to me because of her depression. So, she said, espescially when I'm going back in such a difficult and emotionally-laden environment, I need to 'nurture myself,' because Little Me is in there and needs nurturance so desperately. So, we settled on lighting a nice-smelling candle while I'm here at home. It's not much, but I bought myself a nice one from Bath and Body works that really smells like Christmas trees. And as I sit here and let the tension run out of my body, I feel a little better.
The candle is lit in mourning for the child who didn't always get to be a child, because when she walked in the door from school, she had to figure out what kind of mood her Mommy was in. Could she be herself today? Oh, no, Mommy's too sad and upset for that. Must be someone else today, the person who comforts and helps Mommy with everything. However, it is also lit for a different reason. It is lit as a symbol of hope, a light for a different future.