One of my favorite television shows when I was growing up in the seventies was the Walton's. I couldn't wait to watch the family gather around their kitchen table to share the love and warmth of their daily lives. I wanted what they had, I longed for their closeness, their family togetherness. I always felt like a between child.
I was an adopted only child and had no other siblings to laugh with, squabble with or tell secrets. I yearned for a house full of disarray. I felt sorry for myself. I had a right, but did I really have a reason?
My parent's weren't bad parents but they were distant parents. Both worked numerous hours and I was raised by nannies(who seemed I thought to love me more than my parents loved me). I didn't like being a between child.
I envied my cousin. She had what I wanted. She had the big family, she had the sibling rivalry I longed for. My world was a between world. I pretended to be happy, to be content with the life I had been dealt. I wasn't...I felt sorry for myself, but did I have a good reason?
I though I did. I thought it wasn't fair I didn't have any brothers or sister's. I thought it was unfair I spent countless hours by myself. I had a right to feel sorry for myself, didn't I?
I look back on that period and think why did I pity that life? I had two wonderful parents who wanted me. I may have thought I was a between child, but I really wasn't. I was a very wanted child between two parent's who loved me unconditionally.
The next time you want to throw yourself a pity party because you think you have a right, remember do you have a reason?