The Harpies!

As I used the restroom some weeks ago (Feb. 10, 2017) I was in the midst of thinking things over. This voice in my mind (which sounded an awful lot like my friend, Donna!) said, “your mother and sister are harpies!” I thought I even heard her booming laugh. It just popped in there! I couldn’t help it! I hadn’t heard that creatures name since I saw that movie, “The Last Unicorn” as a child! I couldn’t help but giggle when I looked up what a harpy truly was! Mean spirited but freeing at the same time. Keep in mind, the pain was and is still fresh. I know as time goes on, peace will take over.

It is said, “In Greek mythology and Roman mythology, a harpy was a female monster in the form of a bird with a human face. They steal food from their victims while they are eating and carry evildoers (especially those who have killed their family) to the Erinyes. They seem originally to have been wind spirits. Their name means “snatchers.” (Wikipedia)

Let’s face it…there are a few ways one can kill their own family. Being toxic, non-communicative, verbally/emotionally abusive, non-supportive, etc, etc. Let’s just each make sure we aren’t doing the above and maybe the Harpy won’t come for us. Merriam Webster further defines it as thus; “Definition of harpy: plural harpies

1. capitalized : a foul malign creature in Greek mythology that is part woman and part bird
2 a : a predatory person : leech
b : a shrewish woman This came to me moments ago when thinking of two specific women I once had in my life. It rings true based on the descriptions for sure. Through grief, the mind tries to reason why. Why did this happen? Why did that happen? What did I do wrong? What could I have done better? Since our only true control is our own part we play, that is the one I choose to focus on most. I know very well what I feel the other did. But I can’t change it nor can I force them to see it. “Pruning one’s own garden” truly is the way to go.

All the judgement. All the talking behind my back. I had my suspicions, but I chose to overlook it figuring, “well, ya don’t know for sure.” Well, now I do. After I had my first child I was asked by one of them if I would be getting my tubes tied. Not “congratulations!” Not, “wow you mean I’m going to be an auntie!?” Or even, “I can’t wait to be a grandma!” That right there was a turn in the road. I should’ve known right then that it wasn’t normal. I assumed all the happy folks were the abnormal and we were the norm!

I suspect jealousy. Jealous that I kept my child rather than give her up for adoption. Jealous that I stepped up. Perhaps the other one felt I had slighted her and IF this is the case she fails to see that I simply made the best choice for me and my daughter. I only suspect this because various people were told I was a “bad mother,” that I liked to have children and not raise them. A complete untruth. Anytime I was happy about something, they were not. You see, I didn’t have one of those families that squeals with joy when you announce you’re expecting. No, I get downcast eyes and silly questions like, “don’t you know what birth control is?” I guess it is by the Lord’s grace they didn’t try to eat my young. They must’ve been exhausted from the 42 years of pecking at me. I guess it isn’t as fun when the person quits putting up with it and calls you on your b.s. Rant done.

 

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