"Baring Gifts"

She’s Marie Barone—on steroids       

baring gifts of guilt       

wrapped in gilded foil   

dripping honeyed compliments   

sprinkled with ground glass   

leaving you bleeding on the inside   

With a smile she blames you for her cruelty   

twisting her tales   

defending her intrusions   

she belittles you as she praises you   

tearing you down to control you   

with gossip she snatches away your privacy   

claiming she only acts with love   

Lock your doors   

Don’t let her in   

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

"Forgive and Forget"

Over time, the walls of self-defense become chinked with wear   
Overgrown by ivy, flowering each spring with climbing roses,     
The origins for brick and mortar fade in memory     
The enemy’s conniving and manipulation forgotten with each passing season     
Over time, the story of the their cruelty mutates     
Into a softer narrative of the human frailty found within their souls  
And the need to forgive and forget their heartless and vindictive natures      
Grows because I must repair my damaged spirit      
Over time, the protective barriers seem superfluous      
My internal longings to belong create false hope      
That “this time” will prove different—better      
That somehow they’ve gentled with time      
Foolish me—to pull down the walls, to retell the tale        
To desire their love    
Foolish me—to provide them opportunity, to crush me     
Under the weight of my forgiveness

      
Copyright 2014 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman   

"Competition"

            My in-laws thrive on an antagonistic, competitive dynamic that leaves me confused and emotionally battered. Their monthly gatherings, usually doused with alcohol, disintegrate into hostile clashes whenever they are confronted with anyone or anything that doesn’t mesh with their clannish worldview.

            I desperately attempted to fit into their tribe for many years. I endured their barbed comments, cruel exclusions, and open hostility because I convinced myself that all I had to do was somehow be “better” to gain acceptance. In my mind, if I could figure out the rules to their game, I would help my husband and son improve their relationship within the family. In hindsight, my constant anger, bitterness, and pain caused damage, too.  It took extensive soul searching on my part, along with a million arguments with my husband, to finally admit that I would never, ever belong.

            During the last forty years, my response to the dysfunction varied depending upon my own mental and emotional health. I now pick and choose very carefully which holidays and events to attend, and I no longer take on guilt because I don’t try to improve relationships anymore. Most of the time, I believe that no one in the family even notices that I’ve disengaged from their turmoil and drama. They remain focused on their latest level of rivalry, like how many homes they own or the type of airplane they fly. Although they gather habitually, I don’t think they really like one another. Their connection stems from rivalry that fosters enmity. They are linked more by competition than affection.

            They play a sad game.

Copyright 2019 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

"Control What We Can"

 

            

Before

Old faucet

Old paint

            We began a major project the first week of November because I wanted to tackle something that was totally under my control as we moved into receiving election results. For the last few months, I feared our smallest bathroom would need major work like the tub pulled out and swapped with one of those new walk-in shower units. I fretted that the vanity and countertop needed to be removed along with the faucet. However, I spent a few days with a critical eye to refurbish and repair instead of replace.

            Attacking the vanity with Murphy’s Oil soap followed by Old English dark wood stain and a gloss of Orange Oil revitalized the tired cabinet. I discovered applying petroleum jelly to the countertop, and buffing it with a fiber cloth, made it all look new again! Our corroded faucet would be easy to update with something more stylish. Naturally, the instructions promise of a 30 minute installation morphed into two hours wrestling off the old drain.  Examination of our tub with a critical eye revealed nothing terribly wrong except for striping off the caulk and scrubbing the tub itself with a Pumice stone and spiffing up the tile with a tad of TLC. The toilet required the same diligent attention to look new again!

            The bathroom walls wore a wall treatment we tried a million years ago—a tissue paper technique that withstood the test of time. We decided to repaint the room using the same color of our family room, only using semi-gloss for the added protection. The Celestial Glow’s barely there grey freshened the room in one coat. The shower curtain, a temporary selection until the household artists decide on original work, adds color and movement.

            Repair. Reclaim. Refurbish. Salvage what we can with care.

A barely there grey

Revitalized vanity

Temporary color splash

Copyright 2024 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

                  

             

"Pet Peeves"

            In August of 2011, I decided to generate a list of the top ten behaviors that irk me—just because. It AMAZES me that not a single pet peeve has changed all of these years later!  I haven’t ordered my list in any way. I wonder, though, if any of you also share the same irritants. Feel free to add to my list with your comments!

I hate it when people:

 
greet me like I’m a long lost relative with effusive hugs when  I know it’s all for show

 

agree to be at a certain place at a certain time, show up late (or not at all) and then act annoyed because I’m upset 


swear (usually in front of other people) that they’ll gladly help, and then cancel when it’s too late for me to line up someone else 

preface their criticisms with, “It’s nothing personal, but . . .” and then blast me with a long list of very personal things they’d like me to change

 

dump their problems on me and never offer a reciprocal dumping of my woes 

expect me to be a good person at all times (loving, generous, thoughtful, forgiving) while they can treat me with nastiness 

deny me my right to speak my views because I’m too different from them; yet want me to listen without rebuttal to their diatribes   

preach to the choir (a favorite in educational circles). If you have a problem with something someone says/does, speak privately and directly to that person 

brag about their lives in an effort to exclude me from it 

know what is right; yet choose to do wrong 

2011 Me!

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman