You got all the Thoughtful Genes

My last blog post was about my family and how I don't fit.

This post is a bit of an addendum.  More thoughts that the comment "you got all the thoughtful genes" stir up in me.

My father was tough.  Tough as nails when it came to the protection of his girls.  He was strong and determined.  He was a man of faith and family, country and friendship.  My father was thoughtful, even in little things.

Take for example my birthday.  My father was rarely around for my birthday.  My birthday falls right in that first week of deer season.  He would always be in the upper portions of our state hunting with his buddies.  He deserved that, he worked hard.  But he always made sure I had a little something, trinkets and tchotch mostly, from wherever it was he was hunting in lieu of making my birthday.

As a child I sometimes saw it as an “ahhh... my sisters didn’t get something just from daddy, did they?” thing, but most of the time I saw it as it really was.   Thoughtful.  He didn’t have to do it.  He did it on his own.  I still own the bracelet he got me when I was 8 with stones from the Bible in it.  I still have the cedar box he brought me home.  Those things meant a great deal to me…because of the thought!

I am always thankful that I am much like my father.  I’m tough as nails when it comes to my son and grand kids.  I’m strong and determined.  I am a woman of faith and family, country and friendship…and I am thoughtful.  Because of that, I truly appreciate the thoughtful things people do for me.  I know what goes into that.

When my children were growing up, and even now my grands, the little things they made me on their own, and even the little sweet things they said from their hearts mean the most to me.  Thoughtfulness will always print a heart memory directly on the sweetest spot of my heart.

Now that my son is a single father, he makes sure I get little thoughtful things from his kids.  Gift cards for manicures with her…paint ball with him.  Things he knows bring me joy.  Things with him, however, have become few and far between.  Part of that is his career, and part of it is his need to tend to his father, my ex-husband, with whom he feels (my opinion) he must protect.  After all, I have Left Brain, his father has no one.  Sometimes that lack of thought hurts me.  I wish it were not so.

For my extended family, I try to go that little extra bit.  Making things for my sisters, including them in the genealogy research and photos that I come across…I know they love it, they appreciate it.  For my nephews as they marry, I try not to only get them something off their registry, but something small, yet thoughtful as well, going rogue as it were, with that little something extra.

I’ve sat through surgeries and visited in hospitalizations.  I’ve called. 

The last time one of my sisters called me has been so long ago I can’t even recall what year it was.  My own mother never calls, but to be fair, she never calls anyone, or so I’ve been told.  The last time I was hospitalized for 5 days…no one came!  No one called.  No one cared to be bothered.  When I had surgery, no one came, called or bothered.  I find I am getting a little weary of this aspect of their lack of thoughtfulness.

One time when I commented on this, one sister said, “but…you got all the thoughtful genes” as if that explains or excuses it. 

It hasn’t.  It doesn’t.

Their lack of thoughtfulness toward me will not stop me of thinking of thoughtful things, it will, however, stop me from acting on them, and that is sad.

Left Brain counsels me that "sometimes people just need a good letting alone."  I see the value in that for myself as I get older.

It is said, "never cross oceans for people who wouldn't jump a puddle for you."

Here's the deal though, they probably won't even realize I've stopped crossing those oceans.

If I had to get all of a gene...I'm awfully glad it was the thoughtful one!