The low hum of chatter from the café across the road,
followed by the clink of a china cup at the little restaurant where I am
sitting, breaks my meandering thought pattern.
Laughter echoes through the slight breeze and I envy those sharing a
moment with friends. I find myself alone
on a regular basis these days, apart from the never-ending cups of tea and
visits to the hospital with my elderly mother whom I care for; it is draining,
exhausting and the most emotionally and financially expensive endeavour I have
known and my life feels permanently on hold.
Over time I have withdrawn, both from people and into
myself, due perhaps to a feeling of helplessness or perhaps simply plain exhaustion from the position I find
myself in; or perhaps because I am simply bored of selfish people. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not sitting here
feeling sorry for myself but rather enjoying a long black coffee and a gluten
free pear and hazelnut tart but wondering how the hell life came to this. Ever the Optimist I tell myself daily:
“Although the difficult takes time, the impossible just
takes a little longer”
This quote has been such a source of strength for me since
the day I first listened to a seminar of one of the most inspirational and
courageous souls – Art Berg – to have graced this planet. Whenever I find myself thinking the odds are
stacked against me, I remember his story and tell myself to just “STOP” and I
replay his incredible fight for life in my mind. Earlier this morning, I watched a clip of
another beautiful soul, taken on Christmas Day at the tender age of 18. His whole life ahead of him. Enduring 4 heart attacks in his short life,
he was so positive and so accepting of what lay before him. I ask myself, what right do I have to
complain? NONE! I am still here, I can
still enjoy the rustle of the leaves and the chirping of the birds; whilst I
can do that, there is hope. Hope to
overcome, hope to explore possibility, hope to find my place and purpose, hope
to meet the love I will grow old with.
Today, a strange feeling is seeping from my pores. I’m not
sure where this feeling is coming from or what exactly has triggered it. Is it a kind of premonition of something
about to occur? Strangely this happens to me, it has since I was a very young
girl. Think me odd if you like, I no longer care, the truth is I experience
feelings of connectedness to events that, at the time, I do not know are
happening and I am left curious as to the meaning of these strange and
unsettling sensations racing, or slowly surfacing, to only discover the reason
sometime shortly thereafter or, at other times, much later on.
Despite all the difficult turns, I realise I am slowly
taking steps to build the platform for the future I desire and, a little at a
time, I am throwing caution to the wind, taking risks to believe I have
something to offer the world and every time, every day, when someone I care
about disparages my dreams, practices the art of criticism upon me, reminds me
of their view of my uselessness, turns a positive into a negative, I take a
walk amidst nature and tell myself “They are wrong” and I remind myself that I
am a good person with a huge heart that has much to share with the world.
If anyone was to ever
ask me should they care for their elderly parent, my answer would be an
emphatic and resounding “NO”; the cost is too high, in real terms financially
and unquestionably in life value. What
price do you put on your own life? If you care for a parent, your life is
stolen from you, no ifs, buts or maybes.
I offer no apologies if I sound harsh; truth is truth. The other truth is that you become filled
with anger at your siblings that seem not to care and go about living their
lives leaving you to simply deal with it all; it is like a poison that gets
into your blood and works its way through your entire being. Currently I am working on an antidote and
although others may not agree with my methods, they are working for me and this
is about survival, mentally and emotionally, so perhaps all is fair in love and war when it comes to life.
Right now the doors are closed to where I want to be; I have
however chiselled a crack in the wall. I
put my mind’s eye up close against it and I see a different time, a different
place, music, laughter, love, nature and creative pursuit and I remind myself
of the first thought that came to me upon waking to this New Year…
“I have a good feeling about …”
© Dianne Traynor
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