| Aug. 11th, 2009 @ 07:31 am Soooo... |
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Current Mood:  contemplative
As of eight o'clock last night my grandfather is off life support. His choice. He waited for the last of his children to fly in, then requested the hospice nurses discontinue the nutrient drips. He will slip away sometime this week surrounded by people who love him. I wish I were there. His 93rd birthday was this past Thursday.
The shape I want my life to take has been on my mind frequently these past few weeks. My grandfather is an excellent template of the sort of person I want to become. He's led a rich wonderful life; always participating in the community and taking an active interest in those around him. He's been madly in love with my grandmother for more than sixty years. He's a practical person, but he's also an artist (wildflower photographer) full of unexpected interests and knowledge.
I am trying to find the confidence to live in the world with as much grace and compassion as my grandparents have. Thus far, I think one of the biggest barriers has been my inability to put down roots. I am still so restless, and the kind of community involvement I am striving for probably means I will have to pick a place and settle. Finding and keeping the kind of loving partnership my grandparents have probably means getting over my fear of betrayal and letting myself trust someone enough to settle down, too. I bury my walls pretty deep, I'm not sure any outside observer, even one who knew me really well, could see where they are. I am still protecting myself, though, even in the best of times I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for signs that I am about to be dropped so I can leap out of the way and avoid impact. It's got to be really damn frustrating to be my lover.
Poor Joe. We moved him this weekend. His first home and I'm pretty sure his little sister is going to dictate where pretty much everything goes. His mother has her eye on the yard, too, but that is probably more of a relief than a concern. The place needs tons of work, it's going to be very nice when it's done, however.
My own place is still pretty chaotic. I've been there nearly a year now and it still looks like I'm in the process of moving in... or out. I can't seem to find the time to clean and get everything set up the way I want to. I know it's because I'm not making the time. I really wish I could make it into the place where I live instead of just the place where I store my stuff, keep my cats, and sometimes spend the night.
Is this what the transition to adulthood looks like? Facing the fact that you can't just keep moving all the time? |
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