Not to take away from the celebration of our family, but sometimes, like today, I feel alone -- cut off from my roots and everyone who "has to" love me because we're family. Sometimes the virtual holding of hands and singing "Kumbaya" doesn't cut it.And that family compound I mentioned? Forget it, because not one of us is in a position to make it happen. And we'd squabble over our differences rather than celebrate the things we have in common. That seems to be human nature.
Life, it turns out, has plans for us that we didn't design. And our faith -- or our passivity -- takes us places we didn't prepare ourselves for, much less pack the things we'd need for the journey.
I can't count the times Dad told me to get my education and leave Athens, saying "There's nothing for you here." And I headed out without a map, a clue or a plan.
We're on our own for the most part. Oh, we can reach out for a reassuring voice or advice, but we travel on our own journeys, making believe for a while that we are masters of our fates. Don't believe it. Things happen that derail our best plans, that smash our hopes, that change us. It's called "growing up," but it's a crap shoot, at best. And one day we realize that we are somewhere we didn't plan to go and we wonder how we got there.
We can rail against these things, and many days I do. Or we can "pull ourselves up by our bootstraps," as Dad always admonished us to do. Or we can face reality as Mom did, rarely flinching. But sometimes we don't have a compass, our bootstraps break, we're too tired to rail.
I'm having one of those days. As the song says, "Sometimes I feel like a motherless child." I mother others but don't have anyone to nurture me. I know I'm lucky, but I don't feel lucky. I feel scared, just like the time Mom and Dad drove off and left Lois and me in a gas station somewhere in Canada. I want to run away, but I don't know where to go and who would take me in.
One time I asked our momma if she ever felt this way, and she answered with a sigh, "I don't know. I never had time to thing about it." So, the answer is: "No, she didn't." It's hard to live up to the example she and Dad set, hard to keep trooping on. I guess they were made of tougher stuff than this baby of the family is.
5 comments:
Oh, but Mother did feel that way at least once that I know of. They were living in Sebring and Dad was driving her crazy. That particular incident was when she was recovering my little wicker settee and Dad decided she didn't know what she was doing and was telling her how to do it. I came in and found her ironing and crying, and she told me she felt like getting on a bus and going far away from anyone who knew her. I understood. And I understand now. Whoever of us doesn't, raise your hand.
P.S. You do remember Dad telling you to leave Athens? I've always wondered if he told me that, too, because I have no recollection of it if he did. One more thing I cannot recall. Scary.
I'm actually relieved to know Mom was human, too. And, yes, I recall Dad telling me MANY times to GO -- GIT!
I swear he never told me that! Do yu think he would he have let you go unmarried???
I don't remember marriage being part of the deal. Maybe he recognized I was born to leave, or maybe he just wanted to get rid of me. ;)
Post a Comment