Am I the only person who rallies between emotional highs and lows so expansive that I get dizzy and disoriented? I swear it is like riding a bobsled from the tip of Mt. Everest to Death Valley sometimes in the blink of an eye. It’s amazing I don’t toss my cookies every time.
Now, my vacays on Mt. Everest far outweigh the trips to Death Valley, but the emotional rollercoaster of the journey is nevertheless brutal. Even though I am acutely aware of the reasoning behind all these maladies, I seem to be blind to understanding, and immune to acceptance.
Being an adult is sometimes just a royal pain, right? And why do people call it a “royal” pain? I would be unbelievably unhappy if I had to indulge in the pomp and circumstance of life as royalty every waking moment of every day, not to mention the complete lack of privacy. But I am not sure I would refer to it as painful.
Why do we hold ourselves accountable for responsibilities that are not really our own? Like a mother hen, I sometimes spread my wings to include those around me who ask for help or are less fortunate. I know that is not a bad trait, yet it still contributes dramatically to my lack of energy.
And the weight of the guilt felt when you are physically and emotionally unavailable is staggering.
Here I am at the time in my life when I believed I would be lacking in fiscal worry and enjoying total freedom of action. Is that not what we were told in our youth? The “Golden Years” would bathe us in worry-free exultation. I am sure many do. I was just not proactive enough to make certain that would be my endgame.
But I still thank my maker every day for far more blessings than many. Mother’s Day and Father’s Day are just difficult holidays for me. I never wanted anything more than to be a mother but was never blessed.
And while my dad has been gone for 52 years, I still succumb to that childish dream that my life would be very different had I been gifted with his love and guidance for more than 18 years.
And so, the bobsled leaves Mt. Everest again. All aboard! Smart people know you cannot live in the past. I am smart; I do know that. But memories reside in that part of our head and heart that is protected from deletion. They are sometimes the key that engages the bobsled.
But onward we march, dodging the alternative with exuberance. Dad always said, “Life’s great if you don’t weaken,” and I toast that sentiment at the top of Mt. Everest every time I am there.
So, grab a glass and find your own personal toast to life. If you are a parent, love your children unconditionally. And kids? Praise your parents for the miracles that they are. You will miss them when they are gone. Ah, but that is fodder for yet another rant.
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