Hard and Getting Harder
This is for you if life feels that way.
Three of my girls and I spent another Easter in Florida. It’s becoming one of my favorite traditions because it combines so many things I love:
Being outdoors
Covered dishes
An eclectic group of people with life stories to tell
And during this gathering of 25 people, here’s what I realized...
Walking is hard on my dad and getting harder.
Caring for my dad is hard on my mom and getting harder.
Me knowing that I will never walk away from an Easter dinner with my partner of 55 years is hard and getting harder.
I’m plenty grateful and sometimes frustrated at myself for not moving past hard things faster.
But I think the flipside is also true:
I don’t rush through the beautiful things either.
When I saw this picture of my folks, I couldn’t help but think of all the situations they’ve weathered or gone through with us 5 kids:
Divorces, infertility, suicide attempts, depression, anxiety, mental illness, car accidents, ambulances, 105 degree fevers, heart attacks, miscarriages, remarriages, broken engagements, too many heartbreaks to number, devastating middle of the night phone calls, burying parents, bankruptcy, robberies, emergency surgeries, custody, courts, adoption, burying siblings....
The thing that struck me is that theirs is a pretty ordinary life.
Let that sink in.
Sometimes I think we really misread the room when we think we’re the only ones who’s lives feel broken or messy.
We should not.
But still, through it all, I can tell you that my parents would not call their story a tragedy.
In fact, they would say the opposite.
They would tell you that “it has been a wonderful life”.
I’m working on being able to say the same.
I’m trying not to let the unlived versions of my life create a wound that won’t heal.
“but grief that is borrowed is still grief, and we are learning, slowly, painfully, to put it down. to remind ourselves that we do not have to live a thousand lives to live one fully, that every unlived version of us does not have to stay open like a wound.”
I was in charge of the Greek salad and charcuterie board for Easter.
(I think I nailed them both!)
But my most important role of the day was holding up this guy for our Easter picture.
Warmly,
