The Piscataquis River as seen from the "Trestle" in Medford, Maine. Medford is my adopted hometown, we moved there in 1988 with all four kids and the population rose to 183! We had to move ten years later to get better services for Hollie. I miss the place, we go visit on occasion. Eye stuff went well yesterday, of course it's all a blur this morning, I'm like that one eyed cat peeping in a seafood store. 
It often seems that parents are always wrong, doing too much or too little, but never just enough. While it is true that they are often in error, they are usually doing the best they can, given their own upbringing and challenges. Every child receives both gifts and wounds from their parents. As we grow and evolve, our job is to learn to appreciate the gifts, even as we do what we can to heal the emotional injuries. As we learn in recovery, we cannot change the past, but we can alter our relationship to it. We do this by being willing to explore the darkness of some of the difficult things we experienced and by slowly connecting the dots to see how those early episodes still influence us.
Everyone harbors a shadow, where they tuck away things they would prefer not to see. It takes both courage and support to look at parts of our self that were rejected by our parents, society, and even us. Our shadow is a natural part of the self, a reservoir of human darkness, but also the wellspring of creative expression. We must first acknowledge and access it before we can accept it—thus bringing us closer to wholeness.
Shining the light of awareness upon the shadow of my family wounds helps diminish the pain.
From: Cornerstones, Daily Meditations for men in recovery
