[While waiting for Craig to order our hot drinks one afternoon, I thumbed through a magazine and came across the advice column. A reader was lamenting the fact that through all her married life, her husband had dragged their family (her own words) all across the country and a few continents because of his work. And now that the kids are getting ready to move to college, she is wondering when her life would soon begin.
Wait, did she never land or pass through "Go"? Did their life only rest on one person's unequivocal and final decision? Were the outside factors utterly beyond her control? Their control? She seemed to describe the last fifteen to twenty years of her life more as a prison term. Her forty odd years or so of wandering in the desert.
But I wonder too what every day must have felt and meant for her. Does it ever stop? Do you just yearn for a life you used to have or wish you have had? I try to to place myself in the shoes of this wife and mother, of people who give up something in their lives, and in some instances, their very lives. Give up, give way, give away, give in, give out... to a spouse, a sibling, a child, a friend - someone they love dearly.
Is there joy and love in giving? Does the offering leave you empty-handed? Could you love freely and fully without expecting anything in return? Would there be any beauty in the sacrifice?
Dear Dad, thanks for your Gift. Note to self: Stop and smell the flowers. The journey matters as much as the destination. Colorado, August 2009]
