We start our journey as a young soul eager to learn. Our lessons come packaged each with its own merit and design whose purpose may not be totally understood until many years later.
We develop our personalities and hopefully mature. We soldier on.
As we begin to add to our years as a communal being and part of the society in which we live we learn to prioritize tasks in life. We discover that our active input in life may change the value of a particular life lesson we are destined to learn from, and, if we’re lucky, we learn early in life to hang on tight as the Life Lesson Roller Coaster Ride can have some pretty sharp curves and drops.
As we travel this journey we develop tools to help us navigate and manage our lives. Unfortunately, some of the tools we are exposed to and gravitate towards have a negative effect on our lives. It isn’t until we develop some recovery tools that we realize that a previously collected tool, or more, may not be one we wish to tote around on our journey. We then start to replace tools, and hopefully start to shine.
I’ve reached a particular phase in my journey where I’m existing in and absorbing many different levels of energy, thoughts, memories, laughter and regrets, and they’re not all mine.
My only living parent has a horrible disease, COPD. I’m seeing my father’s very capable body whither into a collection of stresses and desire as he fights for each and every breath in a physical frame that is only a whisper of what it once was. I am now in a position in life I had never even thought of before, caring for a loved one who is suffering. Many years ago, my mother passed away from lung cancer. At that time, I did not have the opportunity to learn to give special care to my primary care giver, who felt and addressed my every need as I grew, for she passed very quickly. I am now in that phase and yearn to offer assistance to my father.
There isn’t much I can do to help him, though I try. I can’t help him breath the way he helped me learn to balance on a bike or to drive a car. I can’t talk things through with him to offer support as he did when it was time for me to learn to make better choices.
What I can do is to emulate the tender love and quiet support my mother never ceased to show me. I can revive her memory and way of being, that I now understand as I view it from a mother and grandmother perspective with clearer vision, as I offer forth that style of love and support to my father during this very difficult time.
My father has often said that the only thing you leave behind that really matters is your children.
I now understand my role as their daughter – to bring to the forefront of my life the best they had to teach me topped with a dose of humility life taught me and flavor it with compassion and understanding.
Ain’t Life Grand.