He used to draw on my arm, he really loves art, so I drew and wrote him something sweet, personal, and full of love in a little notebook to make him feel like young again.
I poured my heart into making him feel seen, to remind him that he matters.
He did smile, he felt loved after got that little notebook in the morning.
But when the night comes, ‘they’ happened. Again.
Their careless, dismissive energy sucked the joy right out of him. Like they have a sixth sense for ruining a good thing.
I’ve seen him quietly carry disappointment around something that occasionally should be joyful.
Nothing makes my blood boil faster than seeing him get brushed aside for a party pooper grown man-child who can’t handle a chair.
I gently warned him to stop spent money on them again next year because I saw the pattern and tried to protect him.
Fast forward to this year. He tries again. Because that’s who he is.
It’s breaking me a little inside to see that warning come true all over again, two years in a row.
I don’t blame him, I know his choice to try again came from his generous soul.
I just wish he could accept the hard truth and stop holding on to hope. Hope that maybe this time it will be different, that maybe if he just keeps giving, they will finally see him.
They would never, never treated him fairly.
I’m so sick watching someone I love dearly keeps getting let down by the people who are supposed to lift him up.
I want him to stop wondering what he did wrong when all he ever does is give.
He gives, he shares, he cares.
Where is the little appreciation.
A little “thank you”
A little “hey, I see you”
It’s basic human decency.
To my husband, Tyo (if you read this):
You’re one of the kindest, most thoughtful person I’ve ever known. You matter. Your kindness matters. Even when it feels like no one sees it, I do. My mom in heaven does too, and you know if she were here, she would’ve bought you a cake to comfort you. So let’s stop giving your rich heart to the unappreciative people next year and order pizza just for us.
