It is odd to be sitting in a room that contains all of my grandmother’s, mother’s and my own earthly possessions (minus my car). The boxes, only four, remained stacked up on the far wall that experience an occasional reminiscing peek, but nothing too prolonged. If I look to deep the good and the bad memories become all too real and present. I’d rather picture their narratives in my mind, sometimes filled with exaggerations of color and kindness, but it is my own reality not theirs. I can see and believe through my eyes an event viewed entirely different by another being.
See, I know the back story to why I am where I am. I know the story of what lead to my upbringing, to my mother’s betrayal, and my grandmother’s hard shell to everyone but me. It is my history and I, although not always appreciative, will carry on and revisit their lives, their good and bad influences upon my own narrative. But I have learned to only do this in small doses. Becoming trapped in past lives can circle you in loneliness because you realize you were left behind in a sense. Regardless of what others may tell you, at times you are physically and visibly alone. Yes, I do believe God is always with you but sometimes your senses deceive and you feel the cold trap of isolation and the gulping fear that this will never change. The notion that for some reason you are meant to live a cloistered life, even though within your soul you know that human beings are built for community. If we were meant to remain in isolation, our entire existence would have ceased. However, does that mean that a few of us, the “lucky” ones, are chosen to remain alone? I’m not sure, especially pertaining to my own future.
For now, I am alone in my room with the brass rocking horse that constantly damaged our glass coffee tables due to my incessant rocking, the wooden chest s that all three of us collected, and my grandfather’s navy chest no longer filled with his uniform but of new memories from a 28 year old girl’s life. Though there is still space at the top for new adventures to be forged and conquered that will add to my narrative.
Maybe your future is going to be just as boring and normal and filled with folks as anybody else's. Maybe though, nobody lives in isolation because they don't accept society's definition of family, community, etc. I think about Jason's aunt, she has no husband and no kids. Yet, she is somehow constantly busy, has more phone calls and people who depend on her and need her than anyone I know, is deeply loved and respected by her church and her friends and family, and is constantly able to give of herself and does so with the most cheerful and grateful heart. It's just interesting how even those of us who feel cheated/left out by societal expectations are still very adversely affected by not meeting them. Ya know?
ReplyDeletePossibly. I just wonder if when Jason's aunt is alone and the phone is not ringing if these thoughts come into her head and what her feelings are about what she had because she didn't have traditional obligations and vice versa.
ReplyDeleteIt's this sense of wanting to belong to something, maybe it is culturally driven but I think it is part of the mystery of our creation. Needing, wanting a partner in life is a traditional notion, but I think there is reason in it that is rooted in my faith.
Just thinking too much lately, I guess.