She sat, thinking of her life so far. Becoming more depressed by the second, she got up and made a pot of tea. Thoughts were continuing to run through her head- What is it about tea that is so comforting? Is it the warm steam rising and the feel of it on my face when I hold it under my chin or the smell of it? Looking out the window onto the early spring morning, her musing continued.
How did I get to this point? And were there signposts along the way I’ve ignored?- the sadness and guilt rose as she listened to the woulda, coulda ,shouldas that were bouncing around in her head.
I could have done anything, gone anywhere, been anyone. I wonder if anyone else thinks about these things. If I’d only done things differently, I could have saved myself and those I care for a lot of pain.
Pain, that’s where it all started, isn’t it? Pain of being an orphan. Pain of hearing over and over your mother slept around, your father isn’t really your father, she was sleeping with two other men when she got pregnant with you. Pain of someone you loved telling you those horrors and more. Pain of loneliness, of not having a normal family. Pain of abandonment. Pain of unrealized dreams. Pain of knowing you were the only one who would care for that person who spewed all of the ugliness into your life to the end of her life. Pain of hearing her voice even now that she’s gone. Pain of knowing that it spilled over onto your family. Your family. That’s what is important. If I could just go back and live that part over- ignore her like my son said, not let those arrows take hold because I could knock them out of the way. But I couldn’t. Pain. Pain. Pain. That made me who I am today. Pain took the joy out of my heart and insulated me from the joy around me. I missed so much.
As she sat there, staring out the window at the trees blowing in the March wind, yet stationary, the thought occurred to her: They are buffeted in that wind and they still stand firm where they are planted. All this time, that’s what you were doing God. You were holding on to me in that storm that lasted over 30 years. But, God, what would it have been like if I’d had a whole life, two parents who loved each other, siblings I could share with, a stable existence?
The familiar stillness, then the voice: “You would have been someone else. You are exactly the person I intended for you to be. That long road with the grandmother was what was needed for you to become you.”
The realization came to her, looking back on her life, that she was protected from an early age. There had always been a provision and protection for her in the middle of the pain. (to be cont.)
Words to Ponder:
Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Romans 12:12
This started as a response to an Allume challenge http://allume.com/ to write in the third person, perhaps I stretched it a bit with the first person thoughts… but here’s the beginnings of something. Not sure where it will take me… but I’m off again!