Today, I had a low-key day. All the anxiety from yesterday evening and pushing back against it wiped me out. And the colder weather today didn’t help much either.
While my Mom and Dad were meeting their new doctor, I ventured out to visit my grandparents’ graves. Mom (God bless her) keeps asking where her parents are and why they don’t visit her. It breaks my heart. When she asks, I tell her her parents are in Des Plaines. Not a lie. Not really. But sometimes she replies with the stark truth they’re dead, and it kills me a little bit inside each time. The sparkle in her eyes dwindles and she bows her head as reality sinks its fangs into her flesh. Why can’t we just lie to one another? Keep the facade up for a few seconds more?
The trees are putting on a beautiful show, but I’m still not used to weather being this cold, or rather the wind being this bitter in an entirely different way than Antarctic winds can be bitter, so my visit to my Oma and Opa was short. And the mausoleum where my Grandma and Grandpa are interred in wasn’t much warmer, but the thought came to me that heating and air conditioning was for the living so I guess the frigidity in that building made sense.
I told them I missed them, that I hoped they were safe and happy wherever they were. I updated them on the most important things in my life from last time I visited, even though I truly believe somehow they already know. And I asked them for their wisdom and guidance going forward. A tad bit ritualistic I guess in a blending of religious beliefs and practices in a most agnostic way, but I’m a great believer in there must be a sliver of truth in everything, so why not?
Yesterday, I wrote about how the batons twirling and color guard rotating their flags in unison and the displaced-in-time döppelganger of someone who marched out of my life triggered my anxiety a great deal before I internally talked myself off the ledge in that glorious performing arts center in Lake County yesterday evening.
Today, I reached out to that person whose double I saw yesterday. It wasn’t out of guilt or desperation, but in a genuine bid to not only know I did all I could to salvage something I felt was special to me but also accept my part in the falling out (which I always try to do lately) and extend an olive branch. My Grandpa was a great believer in making amends.
I’m not angry. I don’t hate them. (I don’t hate anyone.) The newer more-secure me knows I can only control my actions and reactions, and what will be will be. If they decide to stay silent, I will respect their choice. If they decide to re-engage, I’ll walk forward with them step by step, no matter what that may bring. As many of you know, I try to be kind, patient, caring, welcoming, and loving. I try to show this through my actions and words. But I’m not a miracle worker; I can’t heal the deaf, the blind, the sick. No, both people have to meet somewhere in the middle. Realize the future is ours to shape and mold if we’re willing.
And with my Mom, I spent a bit more time being even more present and trying to enjoy those moments with her, no matter how distracted or distant she seems. And I really noticed how when I’m helping her get dressed or brush her hair or walking her from the car to wherever that what I offer is as much love and care as I can. Again, I can only control me and what I bring to the table. I mourn the changes each and every day. Each time I come back, even sometimes weeks later, so much has changed.
But being with her here and now, making memories, sharing laughs, showing her my love through my actions and my words? That’s one of the most important things for me in my life right now. And it’s something so minuscule compared to everything she’s done for us over the years. I can never repay her for all she’s given me. Never.
Life is so very short. Be happy, be open, be emotional, be honest. Live, love, forgive, grow, keep moving forward. Live authentically and go hard out. I know it can be scary, but truly trust people unless they give you a pretty good reason not to. Forgive. Forget. Forge onwards. And tell the ones you love how much you care about them and love them as often as you can. No regrets.
Beam Me Up, Scotty 
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