Every once in a while I read something that stops me dead in my tracks. I almost always remember the phrase verbatim, but don't count on me to recall who wrote it or when. I've long since abandoned wasting brain capacity on those kinds of things. I've got far more important things to remember on a daily basis, such as which child is currently enamored of Ovaltine and which cup is the preferred one to enjoy it in. Critical, national security things like that, ya know?
Anyway, I've recently been slowly ruminating on some long-dead philosopher's words (I'm too lazy to look up which one, but if you're truly interested, let me know and I will find the reference for you) I read in a book a few weeks ago. He said, "It is not up to us to look for the meaning in the events of our lives. Rather, we must work to create meaning from the experiences we have." Huh. Active versus passive. Responsibility versus victimization. Cool. I like it. I've never been a believer in fate or destiny anyway - we control freaks like our notion of free will far too much for that. Turning this concept over and over in my mind allows me to have a different perspective on events in my life much like reversing binoculars from the magnifying side to the smaller end. Instead of trying to decipher WHY something has happened to me at this time in my life, I can work to make it meaningful. I can use it in my quest for peace and happiness.
Currently, the three most influential males in my life are afflicted with some physical ailments. My husband and I are still searching for clues to his mystery illness, my grandfather is suffering from the end stages of lung and bone cancer, and my father recently learned he will need to lose a portion of his right lung after a biopsy revealed the first stages of a cancer there.
I grew up firmly rooted in a matriarchical community, single mom with a strong mother figure, strong respectful relationship with my first stepmother, committed long-term relationships with girlfriends I hung out with in high school. I have surrounded myself with supportive women whom I admire and revere my entire life. Now I am faced with examining the importance of the men in my life.
I am frightened and saddened by the prospect of these three magnificent human beings suffering to any degree. I cannot begin to calculate the gifts I have received from them all over time. Rather than succumbing to the despair and frustration at not being able to impact their physical status I will struggle to make this all meaningful. I will find a way to strengthen my connections with these men and honor their contributions to the person I am.