Photo Credit for the rainbow: Lloyd J Ferraro
Hi!
Happy Birthday to me!
I know saying that can sound pretty self-indulgent, or self-aggrandizing, to be honest, it feels weird too, but, if you'll indulge me, I'll try to explain as best I can.
Birthdays never used to be a big deal. When you grow up in a big family, there are a lot of them to be sure, so there was never a big fuss made of them. Mom did make a cake, and you usually were allowed to have a friend or two over for a sleepover.
So, as an adult, they came and went, and becoming a Mom at 20, the birthday focus, quickly went to the littles, as it most definitely should.
When my dad passed at age 65, once a person had a chance to process the shock and grief, it was a bit of a wake-up call to pay better attention. To kick off the autopilot, make a better effort to live in the moment. The thing is, life was still very hectic, our four girls were teens and pre-teens, in sports, they had school stuff, friend stuff, my hubby and I each had at least two jobs, 'busy' would have honestly been a vacation.
The real slap came when my sister passed when she was 46. At this point, our girls were adults-ish, in the process of discovering their own paths. It hit hard. I was 42.
Birthdays became something different. They became more important. Something to actually celebrate. Does that mean a big party every year? Not for me. For me, it just means I mark it, on purpose.
Then, in 2021, my eldest sister passed away mere weeks before turning 60.
Another slap.
So now, I feel I owe it to them to live the kind of life they were ripped from.
Char, the one who passed first, left behind her husband and three boys, the boys on the brink of forging their own path. They are now, committed partners and dads, living full lives. She never had the opportunity to meet, in person, and spoil her grandbabies. She didn't get to meet her daughters-in-law, which she would love, by the way. Pieces of her live on in her boys and her grandbabies, all you have to do is look at them to see that. Her husband found happiness in a new marriage with a sweet, kind woman, and is doing well, thankfully. Char was only 46.
Yvonne was so excited about her new home, her new, soon-to-be retired way of living with the love of her life. She was looking so forward to really breaking in her new kitchen, getting together with family and friends, just hanging out. She was only 59.
So here I sit. I'm 57. I am soul-crushingly aware of how lucky I am to have the privilege of turning 57. Sometimes it can feel heavy to the point of paralyzing me. Sometimes it's hard to shake the feeling that it's my responsibility to live the lives they were robbed of. The unfulfilled dreams, the memories forever remaining unmade. All of the things that will never be more than 'might have been.' It can feel heavy.
When the weight gets to be too much, I have to remind myself that they wouldn't want that for me. In fact, they would be the first in line to kick my butt for dwelling on things I can't change. Does that make it easy? Hell, no. But, it does make it tolerable.
What it comes to, at least for me, is this.
Life can become a hamster wheel of sameness, if we let it. We do the same things the same way, if for no other reason than it's the way we've always done it. I refuse to fall into that trap.
It's important to challenge things, especially the things you brought with you from childhood. The ideas, ideals, habits, priorities, belief systems...
For example, It has come to my attention that there are those out there who still truly believe that morality is attached to organized religion. As a child being brought up in the Catholic Church, they were taught as one in the same, no doubt. The following of Church rules defined whether you were a good person or not.
As I walked the world longer, expanding my understanding, meeting a variety of people from different backgrounds and cultures, this religion= morality equation completely debunked itself, so many reasons coming from the church itself.
Some of the absolute best people I know have no religious affiliation at all. Some of the worst, bound to it from birth. What I have experienced is that it's usually the loudest of the fire and brimstone screamers that are the most self-righteous, but have the least reason to be so.
And that's just one subject.
So, 57. As I come to accept that I simply can't live the lives my sisters left behind and need to continue to try to do justice to my own, I can do this.
I can continue to expand my thinking and experiences to create the best life I possibly can.
I can continue to strive for a better understanding of the world we walk in.
I can carry my sisters with me without the heaviness of their loss.
I can celebrate. I'm here, and I'm not going to waste it.
I know that I am far from the only one.
*******************************************************************
You can exist in the stark white sameness of what you know.
You can embrace the whole rainbow, which, in its entirety, has no end.
Chase the colours of the unknown.
No comments:
Post a Comment