Standards of Measure

My standard of measure for what I'm doing is simple. If I stood in front of my grandmothers and explained it, would they be proud of me? Would they agree? I know some people think of God's judgement, and of course that should probably be a concern...but my grandmothers are a bit more real to me.

My grandmothers are two of the sweetest people in the world. They both had a dramatic effect on me, in completely different ways. They were both caring, compassionate, tough women that faced the world and did what they had to do in order to get through it. And they both took a turn in helping to raise me and my brother when our mother left. I'm not sure where I'd be without them.

They were both pretty disappointed about the divorce. They loved my ex, and given what they had gone through, they don't think very highly of quitters. One had an alcoholic husband who beat the hell out of her and her kids, the other an over-bearing, domineering man who would tell her when and how much to eat, even (now, let it be said that I love my grandfather's as well...but they could be some difficult men to get along with.) Neither got divorced, and the fact that I did made neither of them very happy. They are proud of me taking care of my responsibilities concerning my son, however. With so many men who think "taking care of it" means sending money, they are happy that my ex and I can work together so that I get to see my son as much as I do (I'm happy about that, too!)

They both endured lean times in the name of doing what is right. I, on the other hand, am doing something I KNOW is wrong (and possibly dangerous to others) in the name of keeping my job. I can argue all I want about paying the mortgage and child support, but wrong is wrong, and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't be very happy with me about it.

As for the rest, well, they wouldn't be very happy with it. For two women coming from the situations they came from, living the lives they lived, they were two of the most positive, uplifting people I knew. They were trying to raise my self-esteem before that was a thing. I could never tell them that I'm alone. I think that if they knew how depressed I got sometimes, it would hurt them more than just about anything else I could say.

So...how do I stand? I'm falling short. I always will, though. It's not really a measure that I'm trying to achieve, truthfully. The idea is that I have a standard that was set by two wonderful women who, besides for maybe my father, had the biggest impacts on my life. Now, both of them are in failing health. I have all four of my grandparents...I know that that's not going to last for too much longer. I'm grateful that I've had them this long, that they were proud of me, and I'm going to keep trying to make them proud. Set the standard high.