Reflection and acceptance
I stopped for a moment. Over these last couple of days.
Mother’s Day weekend was unexpectedly emotional for me. As it is every year (get a clue, Dick, it happens EVERY. DAMN. YEAR.). The same thing happens on Thanksgiving (this year was the eighth anniversary of Liz’ death).
There are some significant differences this year. I’m not in an intimate relationship at the moment. The latest ended because of the aforementioned anniversary. And the fact that it fell on the day after the woman’s birthday. I was emotionally unavailable, and nothing in my power could change that. It was an ill fated relationship from the start. Sometimes stars cross and magic happens. Other times it’s a supernova and leaves nothing but dust and debris in its wake.
I’m also not in daily contact with any of my kids. This is a first for me. My life has revolved around someone else for thirty years. Even the eighteen months after my wife died were dedicated to trying to surf the waves of grief while keeping a sane and stable home for my family.
I’m in mostly unfamiliar surroundings (although I have been living here for over a year). There’s nothing of my past that retains a grip on me. I’m a little unsure of where I go from here. Or even what I want.
And yet, these are the best days of my life.
I’m in a state of calm reflection. Processing the grief over my wife’s death and the ending of my last relationship. Coming to terms with being an empty-nester and a grandfather. People, for the most part, aren’t relying on me for anything.
There’s tremendous freedom in being in this place and time in my life. There’s also pain and loss and the washing away of earthly desires. I see with a clarity informed by time and experience even as my eyes begin to fail me. I feel with the tenderness and love born of long years of heavy responsibility even as my body loses the vitality of youth.
I mostly don’t care what anyone thinks of me anymore. I have nothing to prove and no one to prove it to. I’m free to love with wild abandon and no illusions of permanence.
It’s the spring of the year and the autumn of my life. I’ve mostly achieved the dreams of my youth. Now, I’m getting ready to set out on adventures that I never imagined back when I believed in limits.
From here, the future looks bright and colorful. This is my time of magic.
Thanks for reading.