One candle more. A look back at a year that propelled me one step closer to where ever it is I am supposed to be-provided me with more opportunities to learn, to grow, to gain more wisdom, strength and courage. It was a year of challenges- not just the kind that leave us wondering how, in the course of life, are we to get from point A to point B; but more about how we survive point A to get to point B-so we can continue down the path. It was a year of side roads, bumps, pot holes and dangerous curves ahead. Forget A to B. I just wanted to get in the car and go.
There are things, those pot holes and dangerous curves mostly that I think about the most. For I am certain, very certain now, with each candle added through the years, my life has been shaped more by dangerous curves and pot holes than anything else. Not because circumstance put them there-but because I chose to keep going-never mind the cost of repair. Things were demanding. I was pushed to the limit. I was wiped out by disappointments-disappointed by realizations and things you can not turn away from-if you are one of those women who sees-who does not shut out the light-who not only calls out the elephant in the room-but refuses, finally, to clean up after it.There in the muck of life-I found more of myself than I imagined.
People let me down.People imploded in front of me and took others down with them- but this year, instead of making excuses for them, I let them go. It was a tremendous gift to myself. I learned to shut my mouth. No, really. I learned, most importantly, when to just shut up and keep going and when to speak. I got louder. In the silence as much as in the speak. It made a huge difference in my life.
I learned to value the process of death and accept when it arrives. And there in the process of death and staying true to someone else’s wishes and wants in the course of living while dying-I found the very presence of life. I found what matters most and there in found what will never matter. It is true- unconditional love is the richest and most treasured-and when death takes away that one last breath-it is the unconditional presence of love that will remain. It is the few unexpected moments you will remember in the tears. It is the moments that made me her daughter, her first child, the woman I came to be because she gently nudged me and I got to do it differently than the way she did-and sometimes-exactly the way she did. Sometimes, even in the darkest moments, I got to be her voice-a gift she gave me without even knowing it. It matters to stay true-no matter the challenges. It matters to be honest. It matters to stay the course-no matter what. No matter what.
I found peace. In the most unexpected places. In the quiet of dawn-clutching my mothers hand when the hiss and pump of a machine overpowers the ebb and flow of an ocean, in the middle of the night, just us two, mother and daughter when the end is too near and no one else is around. When all she gave me, taught me is put to the test. She got it right-my mom, there in her hours of the end-she got it right. I learned that at that exact time, that moment-when someone you love breathes the last breath, you will want to continue breathing and be grateful and be kind and continue on with the business of living. I found peace in the grace of each moment. It was not talent, it was not beauty, it was not the unwrinkled brow that got me there. It was every nook and cranny of life-every wrinkle of what’s if’s and why not’s. It was the potholes, the dangerous curves and the destination unknown that got me there. None of it was easy. Ever. I learned to pick up the phone and ask for help, gratitude and guidance. I learned in the deepest parts of the unexpected we find the things we never expected.
I learned that I don’t “have to” anymore. I earned it and I am okay with it. I don’t have to put up with people I no longer respect, agree with, or for that matter, don’t even like all that much. I don’t have to pretend. I don’t have to act one way to please another group of people who act another way. I don’t have to. I don’t have to be anyone but who I am-with all the imperfections, with all the heartache, with all the stuff I am made of from the stuff I survived.
I learned I can survive anything thrown at me. Anything-but if you attempt to humiliate my child, in all her goodness and light, I will never forgive and I will fight the urge to unleash a motherly anger that only a mother can understand. I learned parenting gets harder, not easier. And yes, it is okay to be one of those mom’s who drives your child to school in her pajamas.
Finally, I learned brilliance is overrated as is genius-and it is never an excuse for bad behavior. Ever. In this road map of life, we all have things that have left a mark, a scar-but at some point, we move on-we grow on-we get on with the mending and the healing and we navigate a different way. Or else, we get on another road and leave the rest behind. I learned, finally, I am okay with that.-leaving the rest behind. It’s my own road. Potholes, dangerous curves and roadblocks.