Fifty First

I wish i had all those years back.  I wish i had known then what i know now.  I wish i had made different choices at so many points.  I wish i had become a doctor or an accountant or a computer programmer or an artist or a physical therapist or an engineer.

Even though i didn’t become any of those, i still could.  Although i will probably never become the gymnast i so wanted to be in middle school.

For you i wish the patience to let yourself try many things, even if it means starting all over.  I wish i could convey to you just how much more time and opportunities you have.  I wish for you to give yourself the peace and time to slowly uncover where you are going, letting the future disappear into an unknowable mist, and being okay with that. Check it out, try it out, it doesn’t work, so try something else.  Look back and be able to say, i didn’t like that, but now i know for sure since i tried it.  Remember your first sushi?  You were dubious, but gamely tried that glistening morsel.  I think you most enjoyed being allowed to eat with your hands. 

Keep trying, I’ve got your back.  That’s what i wish.

Fiftieth

Fear.  Fear brings me to my knees.  The worst thing is that what I fear is nothing that is happening, but something that might happen.  So, FTF (Fuck The Future) is going to be my new motto.  Not that it will help, but it will remind me that I should take a few deep breaths and save the worrying for reality.  I used to have a neighbor who told me that I excelled at "anticipatory grief".  Another word I like is horriblizing.  I happen to have a PhD in horriblizing.  I wonder if that is a science or an art degree.

I think that if you are not afraid, you are not paying attention.

My cat is getting old, and was recently diagnosed with chronic kidney disease.  I am afraid of him dying.  I feel like I can’t take any more loss in my life right now.  Of course I will if I have to, but I am still afraid of my grief at the thought of life without Brown Cat.

Behind that grief, there is the shame of not getting over previous grief in the correct amount of time.  How long is it okay to be sad over losing a cat?  How about a brother?  How about a husband?  

How about forever?

I still miss Eliot and he’s been gone 12 years.  Sometimes I still see his big white furry body out of the corner of my eye.  I like to think that he feels me remembering him in those moments, although I don’t believe it.  I still like these glimpses though, it is the thought of his spirit that was so precious to me that makes me smile.