Life lessons

“And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over.

But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in.

That’s what this storm’s all about.”
Haruki Murakami

I am not the same person I was 10 years ago.

Having sole responsibility for the care of my mother as she struggled with Alzheimer’s and multiple health issues has changed me in significant ways I’m aware of now - and in ways I suspect I won’t even recognize until more time has passed.

What I DO know is what I perceived as a terrible burden was actually a gift.

The responsibility for her care forced me to explore and confront feelings about my family of origin – their behavior and choices - and mine - in ways neither of my siblings has and I’m in a very different place than they are as a result.

I won’t pretend I got there totally on my own; I’ve had wonderful guides and teachers and have benefitted from their collective wisdom; but the showing up, the hard work of sloughing through the pain on the way to awareness was mine.

And I like where I am now… on the other side of so much of the pathology and pain.

I also know that choosing estrangement, resentment, division or hate is far easier than choosing relationship; choosing to be open, and therefore vulnerable, to those who can be messy, imperfect and unreliable.

I must say that I was particularly moved when my sister in law thanked me for not hating my brother; not hating him for so consistently letting me down when I needed him over the last decade.

Did I want him to help? Of course.

Did it hurt when he chose not to? Certainly.

Have I ranted and raved and been angry? Oh baby, you have no idea!

But we all can do only what we can do.

And he is not me... and the consequences for his psyche about what he did or didn't do are his to face, not mine.

And this time, at this point in my life, I'm choosing to love - and move on.