24 April, 2008

Frozen in time...

Location: all over the place
Mood: all over the place

I was listening to a song by the band yesterday, trying to learn how to play it. And the lyrics made me really sad, and I started to lose it. Really started to lose it. I caught myself, though. I am not sure what about the song did it to me. The lyrics don't really apply to my life, but there was just the concept of being someplace that was hard to stay, but not wanting to lose it. I think right now, my emotions are so bottled up, I am needing triggers to get at them. I should make myself a mix tape of all the songs that have historically made me lose it, and just play them all back-to-back and get all of this out of my system. Because I am still feeling nothing. I felt something for a day or so, mostly frustration and sadness, but some of that resolved. I don't know. I want to feel something regarding my mom. And I still don't feel it. Am I repressing it? Or did I already process it? I really don't know, and that is frustrating to me. Could it be possible that I am really okay with it? That I don't have latent issues that need to be resolved?

I tried my best to make things right, inside, when I went home. I realized that where I needed to come to grips was not with the death of my mother from a grieving standpoint, but on two other issues. The first thing was understanding the importance of making it right inside myself, and accepting it, and demonstrating some type of reverence. I never think about that word: reverence. I don't even know what it means other than having a sense of it.

Word says the synonyms are:


Okay. I get it. Yeah, that's what I felt inside. I discovered that what I needed to do for myself was to engage in these behaviors because this is what we carry with ourselves onward for the rest of our lives.

The dead do not mourn the living.

And there were a few things that literally bubbled up inside of me as things I *had* to do. Some of them were things that I initially thought didn't matter. Some of them were things I had initially declined to do. But they bubbled up. And they mattered. And I did them. There was something inside me that said, "You live with these days for the rest of *your* life. And they can be your secrets, either good or bad. This is not for appearance sake. It is private. It is for you alone. And you take it with you, and you know that you have done the right thing... or not".

So that was one part of it.

The other part was... my dad. The inner conflict in my family has always been with my dad. It was rarely, if ever, an outward conflict. Maybe I'll write about that later, but it's not the point here, so I won't describe the details now. But I realized deep inside that what I needed to do now is to set all that aside. To forgive him for the things he probably doesn't even know I was holding grudges about.

To let go.

Because I've held it all for long enough. And I think that part of becoming a whole person involves fully accepting all things about ourselves. Realizing that we are only the product of our upbringing insomuch as we do not take responsibility to craft our identity to our own liking. We cannot erase where we came from, but we are also not bound by it. And I have come a long long way from where I was. And it is both thanks to and in spite of where I was before. I realized that as my dad is mourning the loss of a spouse, which I can only imagine is like no other loss imaginable, what he needs right now is to believe that he is good. That he has done everything right in this life. And for the most part, he has. And part of my trip home was to make my dad feel loved, and supported. Not alone and without purpose. He demonstrated a love and support in a way that I question I could ever provide to anyone. But we are often surprised at how much larger than ourselves we can become when we either choose to, or are forced to do. And when we become larger than ourselves, we have the capacity to stay that way. And right now, I wanted to inject into my father's world view a sense that he is a fantastic person. Because he is. And instead of pointing out my regrets, or trying to reconcile the past for my sake, I thanked him for those very things that I have in the past resented. Because the problem was not how he raised me. It was my unwillingness to grow of my own volition beyond the boundaries that he defined through his experience. It was not my dad's responsibility to make me the best I can be. It is only a parent's responsibility to teach their child a way to be that is healthy and honest. It is our individual responsibility in life to extrapolate from there.

My dad was a role model.

He never lived in excess. He always cared for and provided for his family all the essentials. His values were impeccable. And he set a good example with all of his behaviors. What more can a parent do? And I told him so. Over the years, I think I have done a lot of reconciling with my mom. We had a very open communication, because we are very similar social creatures. But my dad and I never got there. And it is not his responsibility to make that connection, because he is not troubled by it. It was mine. I don't want to have my father's years be lonely ones. Although I am not there to keep his company, as my sister does now every day, I want him to feel that I am there in his heart, supporting him and believing in him. I love my dad. And I don't want him to suffer.

Emotions here.


  1. this is beautiful bob

  2. ...did you have an emotion?

  3. Inman Wheelright25 April, 2008 06:30

    There are no rules, Bob, only actions. Make choices you won't have to apologize for later.