That was my “focal point”. The object I was going to focus on to get through the process of labor. I had waited nine long months to bite into that rich creamy chocolate, laden with caffeine and sugar. All I needed to do was to keep my eye on the prize in order to reach the ultimate goal of giving birth to a precious soul, who’s face I had yet to behold. The Snickers bar was familiar to me, a much needed distraction from the pain of labor. Unfortunately, my dear husband ate it, mistakingly thinking it was packed in our labor bag for the soul purpose of satiety. Honest mistake, miscommunication, funny memory…So instead, I focused on his loving, supportive face, which ended up being a much better focal point to help me “move on”…
“Moving on” is really what this blog post is about. After my mother left this realm, I felt adrift, lost in a sea of not knowing who I was. I guess I experienced my first existential crisis. Questioning who, what, and why? Feeling paralyzed, as if hit by a stun gun. Wading through the mud of daily life. And as I struggled through this new paradigm of being “parentless”, I came to realize that I feared being unprotected, vulnerable, incapable, irrelevant, no longer needed as a daughter. After my father died, I felt the same grief but this time there seemed to be a finality to my role as someone’s daughter. But I moved on then and am moving on now.
In order to move on, I’ve needed a focal point once again. A much needed distraction to fend off stagnation. My Snickers has been replaced by Mother Nature…listening to her melodic birds, studying her intricate plants, and soaking in her daily gift of the sun rising. With my family and friends… my husband’s strong embrace, our son’s texts and calls, my sibling’s daily “check-ins”, my sweet grandchild’s smile that melts my heart, and my FaceTime with my dear friends…All so essential lifelines I have grabbed to keep me moving on. We can so easily get caught in life’s eddies…patterns of circularity that keep us from moving on. Vortices that hinder our journey’s progression. In order to break free, we sometimes need a focal point on which to concentrate. To get us to the next current we will ride.
I’ve always thought that moving on denoted that you’ve fully healed from your wounds. But it’s never linear. We carry our grief with us, just as we forge new paths of healing and rebirth. It all happens in parallel, one circuit keeping the lights on while the other malfunctions for awhile. That’s the beauty of adaptability.
Moving on is not forgetting. It is remembering and honoring those that came before us. By moving on, we carry the torch. That’s how I like to look at it now. I feel my parent’s, and their parent’s, and their parent’s strength and fortitude coursing through my veins. And although the current of life seems passive by nature, I choose to move forward with intent. Choosing to honor all of the past heartbreaks and overwhelming joys that brought me to where I am. Thanking my parents for what they taught me. Realizing that I live on because of their struggles and strengths, their desire for me to thrive well after they move on. My blood is strong, and capable, and enriched with all that I need…except now I’m hungry!
Where is my Snickers????
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