Life has a funny way of slapping someone in the face. What once seemed to be easy and certain very quickly changes in the blink of an eye.
Babies are born. People die. Houses are built…then destroyed. Pets, loved for so long, leave our world forever.
The cycle of happiness and sadness, joy and sorrow are an ever present reminder of the fragility of this existence. It gives us new perspectives when our comfort becomes more important than what is to come for our growth.
Today, that change has happened…
After 17 years of being a combined family, the last vestige of what was once a meanginful relationship had, over the past several years, become one of strain, strangle-holds, chaos, and a more bold, corrosive lack of respect.
The children had been reflecting that sentiment toward the elder who had supported their family through all their tough times. And it now permeated every one of their perspectives, each learning from what was passed down from the other.
Now it was far past time to let it all go.
Precipitous events…
After a strange illness that hit our community out of the blue, the entire family succumbed. It created a wearying situation where all that had become emotionally and spiritually toxic finally exploded.
I realized that my reluctance only served to…further destroy what would never heal…
A decision had to be made.
I awoke angry that I had allowed all of this to go on for so long. I didn’t want to let go of the family, the house and property, and all mutual support we had built up for so many years.
But I realized that my reluctance only served to not only further destroy what would never heal, but would lessen any chance of building any meaningful relationship I would ever have with those little ones who had not completely embracing the “I hate Nana!” mentality.
Maybe I could actually become a grandmother for once…
For three days, I endured the ever-increasing hostility that had trickled down from constant miscommunications and misunderstandings. The children reflected it. And I was at a loss for what to do.
So I asked St Piasios for help. And went to sleep.
The next morning, the decision came to me. I wasn’t anyone’s doormat. I gave up all I had materially and emotionally to try to accommodate the demands of the other family. But I was alone in my defense.
The next morning, the decision came to me.
Angry, I announced my decision.
The house and property will be sold after Easter. I demanded that both my life and my retirement time be given back. And I wasn’t willing to give up the luxury of the large house to be shuffled into a smaller unit just to give them free access to the bigger building I bought outright for all of us.
It was time for all to move on so that we could live our lives separately. To give each one of us the chance to grow.
And the damaged relationships time to heal.
Death comes for us all…
Death comes in many forms. It isn’t always physical. And sometimes, just knowing that the other is still alive but out of reach is more painful than the loss of someone’s physical life.
That’s the power of real love.
After delivering the blow, I waited. Silence. All arguments were shut down quickly by just a glance. They knew there wasn’t anything they could say.
It was over.
So I left the room, determined to use that unspent physical fuel on being useful.
…I realized just how little of my own I really had left.
I cleaned out my small cupboard spaces and the pantry area. Most of the other things would have to be sorted, tossed, or given away. The freezer and office space with all the contents would be dealt with when the subfreezing temperatures subsided over the weekend. All all would be packed and stored away in the office attic area for future moving.
As I gathered up almost everything that was left of mine from the cupboard and pantry, I realized just how little of my own I had left. All I’d had was long gone, broken, replaced, lost, or discarded. Even my favorite set of cookware had been destroyed.
I sighed.
In the end, it will make it easier to start over.
Then reality hit…
After the anger of all that happened finally died down from the physical activity of gathering my few belongings, the sorrow began to sink in.
The only one who was hurting more than any one of the family members…was me.
I would not be missed. None of the memories I longed to pass down to them would be sought or cared for by any one of them. They never wanted to know, even when I tried to share photos and slides with them.
The children will move into their new house and life without issue. And the legacy I wanted to pass on will go to the grandchild remaining two states away – if I can find a way to get to her.
I will be left with the last of my old dog pack. And when my old dog goes, my past will go with her – filled with a deeper loss than that of my family. She’s been such a part of my life for so long, through thick and thin.
As frustrating as she can be, she is the only one with whom I have been able to share my deepest feelings. And she always seemed to understand. And the very thought of losing her fills me with dread. I can only handle so many losses at one time.
I don’t want to start over again. I’m past that state of life where new things fill my life with meaning. Sometimes, the old is best.
So what now?
The change from undisciplined chaos as well as being able to actually live in a clean house that won’t be undone will be unnerving. Time opened up will be endless…and being on my own – in the church we all joined together – will no longer be a part of my world with them. They will have moved on.
Even possibly to another parish.
Instead of having an anchor at the community room table, I will be sitting alone trying to sort out my life. Maybe someone will talk to me – maybe I will be left alone. I don’t have the strength now to seek out new relationships in a room filled with enthusiastic people.
Changed is scary.
I have to embrace it. It is part of the very growth I had asked for.
But the necessary dynamite to blow out the dam of resistance was essential in order to grow.
Where that world will lead I have no idea. What form of life my existence will take is unknown.
But I have to embrace it. It is part of the very growth I had asked for.
I will have to trust that the direction in which I am led is the right one. Prayers for such guidance have never led me astray.
Death by a thousand papercuts…
That’s what this feels like.
I don’t expect this Great Lenten season to end in sorrow this time around. But a loss of self, and life, in unexpected ways will be needed in order to move forward. I cannot go back to my past. That life is now gone. The door bolted shut.
God knows what I need better than I do.
New friendships must be formed without bitterness toward my family beneath the surface. It must come from a purity of heart, and freedom from frustrations that could have been resolved.
And once the pain of anger is gone, and the clarity of the past can be seen without emotion, time will heal all those wounds.
Perhaps even a chance to see the grandchildren again without being treated with contempt by them.
Perhaps.
There is always hope for a brighter future.
Even if, in the present, that seems so far removed from reality.
It is time to embrace that challenge. There is still a new business to build, and new volunteering opportunities to help the homeless on hand.
It is time to grow into the new life God is shaping for me.
Alone.