I
often find myself surrounded by the, “my kids are getting married- my parents
are aging-what is going on with me?” gang.
No offence to my 1979 posse, but I have learned a lot from these
incredibly warm, hilarious and intelligent women. I have learned that when you reach your late 40’s,
for some reason you start carrying around a bottle of vitamin B pills. I have learned that menopause is freaking
hilarious when you are not the one going through it and I have learned that
there will come a time when you will be overcome with joy to see your child
return home for a visit. I have also
learned that we seem to be a people who search for meaning and purpose in our
lives…. something that has been on my heart a lot lately.
When
our youngest daughter was born, I gave full naming rights to my husband. Every name suggested made me want to
puke. Personally, I think “Diclectin” is
a lovely name for a baby. We referred to
the baby as “Pocahontas” for the duration of my pregnancy due to a brief hiatus
in my nausea when someone jokingly mentioned it. Finally, my husband came up with the names
Kathryn or Katelyn. The thing is … it
didn’t really matter; they both mean “pure”.
It’s the meaning that is most important to me.
I
think it would be so easy to pick at everything around me and search for
meanings that just don’t seem to exist.
Most of us have seen the video of the man who was so overcome by emotion
when he saw a double rainbow. Through his
tears and awe, he kept pleading, “what does it mean? What does it mean?” The video certainly made me chuckle, but it’s
not about how I feel. It’s about what
that meant to him.
I
could ask the bigger questions forever. Why does K have to have autism? Someone sent me an article that a mother had
written that clearly stated all the things she had done wrong. Her son’s autism was a direct result of this
shameful list. Really? Ultrasounds, c-section, drinking pop,
vaccinations and antibiotics. Did you
know that doctors are the anti-christ for supporting these things?... well,
maybe not drinking pop. Do people really
believe that this is the way doctors and medical professionals work? I’m going
to assume that if my doctor made it through medical school, that he/she has to
be somewhat of an intelligent and decent person. Be a wise advocate, but have a little faith. I
have raised my children the same. One
has autism. One doesn’t. My parents raised their children the same. I have MD.
My siblings don’t. When there
seems to be no logical answer, I see no purpose in hunting down the why and
instead, search for the meaning. I am
not K’s creator, doctor or occupational therapist… when her specialist tried to
explain stuff to me, all I would hear was, “blah blah blah … science”. I choose to have faith in those more
experienced than I. There is no purpose
in beating myself up for all the things I could have done differently. Been there, done that; not helpful. No matter your age, how educated you are, how
“good” you are or how rich you are, shit happens. What?
Lisa swore?
I
am constantly searching for meaning. It
seems to allow some sort of order to the chaos that often surrounds me. To find a reason for something that doesn’t
make sense. I might be going out on a
limb here, but bad things seem to be inevitable. Happenings without reason or answer. The stuff that causes us to ask, “why?” I do this with the biggest things down to the
smallest things. I don’t know how many times I have lowered my head and said to
my husband after ruining a meal, “why do bad things happen to good chicken?…” I do this so often. The times that my
daughter runs away and fear overwhelms me.
Not long ago, K got out and started running down the street as a car was
heading face on. I started screaming to
a stranger passing by to grab her.
Fortunately, my neighbour and one of my dearest friends heard me
screaming. I truly believe that I live on Beaver Cleaver’s street. She grabbed her and brought her home. When the
adrenaline stops, I find myself asking, “why did that happen?” Such a sneaky smile for such a little girl. She had found a new and exciting way to give
her mother a heart attack. So … why did
that have to happen?
What
is the meaning and purpose of life on this interesting, little planet? Right now, I can’t see it clearly. I am in a conundrum. In one ear, I hear Ernest Hemmingway
whispering, “write hard and clear about what hurts” and in the other ear, I
hear the Beatles singing, “whisper words of wisdom, let it be.” If I could just get the left side of my brain
and the right side of my brain on the same team ….
“Whisper
words of wisdom, let it be”. Someone
shared some words of wisdom with me this week.
No, the Beatles didn’t show up at my house… although, I have had that
song stuck in my head all day. A friend was sharing that we are a people that
seek meaning, but that perhaps it’s not really about you. What!?
But …. No, I completely agree. I
think there are some things that we are just not going to be able to understand
on this side of life. Perhaps the
difficult things that happen in our lives are there to strengthen and deepen us. As I look at some of the people around me, I
can’t help but agree with this avowal, “Suffering
produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope”. But … couldn’t we just skip the suffering part
and go straight to hope? I have my
suspicions that it doesn’t work that way.
How would we ever understand grace, kindness, perseverance or gratitude
if we skipped the first part? Who knows how much your life and decisions impact
other people. I can’t even begin to
explain the impact other people have had on my life. I was just telling one of K’s old teams that
there is no way to even capture the impact they have made on hundreds of teeny,
tiny lives. They come and go every 8
months … no record of the roots they have planted.
Apart
from my faith, I don’t know the meaning of anything anymore. I feel like a hypocrite and a coward. The frustration, loneliness, fear and anger
that often surrounds my heart does not speak of purpose or meaning. In some
ways, I give up. I give up control. Perhaps when I join my heart and mind
together, I realize that I must write hard and clear about what hurts in order
to hear the words of wisdom and just let it be.
A continual process. I am
overcome with emotion as I think about the people that have been placed in my
life this past year and half. Perhaps I
should get more sleep before I write. I was trying to explain to one of my
friends that I am embarrassed to share some of the things I have written. I have literally left behind a paper trail of
all my fear, conceptions and probably stupidity. Her response has given me a lot to think
about, “Isn’t that what a journey is?” Hmmm…
