Football Means Family

I have often said that I started writing this for myself as a way to reconcile my feelings when I was very ill because I was pretty certain that I was going to die. I was also writing it for my children as a diary of sorts so they had a way to look back because because they were younger, Ella especially, and I was always afraid that the memories of me would slowly become more and more dim. I wanted them to know my heart and how I felt and just how hard I fought for them every day; that they were then and always will be the best of me, the best thing I've ever done. Thankfully, these thoughts no longer consume me and I don't worry about dying all that often anymore.

I have been successfully working full-time for over four years now. Not only doing it but excelling. Ten years ago I'm sure no one ever thought I'd work again. With working comes great things because I have always been a bit of a workaholic and I drew pride from a job well done. Plus, a bit of my identity came from others realizing that I was smart and capable. Many, many people equate mental illness with stupidity or ignorance so I was often demeaned. It also comes with down falls like missing Sunday family dinners at my in-law's house. It is what is and being an adult isn't easy for anyone but yesterday I realized what I was missing. Every Sunday during football season, there is Packer's football, snacks, dinner, maybe some beer, and definitely family. Laughter, love, and togetherness. The first football season of our oldest son's life the Packer's won the Super Bowl and my husband and son have shared that bond since. My son watched that first Super Bowl, the whole game, as an infant, on his dad's lap.

Why does any of this matter to me, I'm sure you wonder because if you know me you know I pretty much hate football. Well because I didn't have this family growing up. My family life wasn't the most happy one and I can't think of any tradition that I carried on from my parents except not wrapping that Santa gifts. Please don't get me wrong, I'm not bashing my parents, marriage is hard, and there's wasn't perfect (who's is), parenting is is and their kids weren't perfect (who's are), but I longed for those things and now I have them but I work every Sunday. But yesterday I went in to work much later in the day and I got to go to my in-law's and spend time with people I love doing things the type of family things I longed for as a child. I hope my kids take away some of this and value the close relationship that we have as much as I do. I hope the know I come for football Sundays because to me they mean family. And my family is my everything.

So as I was driving away on my way to work yesterday, I thought to myself, "Damn Lisa, you have been through some shit, life has handed you a lot of lemons, but you are by far one of the most blessed people ever because those people are simply amazing." And then a few tears rolled down...