I am not arrogant enough to claim things I do for others to be unselfishly motivated. Many things I do that benefit others are done as much for me as for them. I receive joy in doing things for people that I love, and even for complete strangers. One of my biggest joys is feeding people. Another is creating something out of fabric or yarn that depicts what they mean to me. These are simple things really…everyday actions in my household. Without the ability to do these things, I would feel utterly empty. I even think those who know me realize that nurturing others is the core of my being.
Sometimes in life we drift away from those we love. Time and desire merely pull us in separate directions. We don’t purposefully neglect people. We each tend to live our own lives and one day we wake up and realize we live in different worlds. Sometimes it takes unforeseen heartbreaking circumstances for us to come to this realization. When faced with tragic circumstances, we try to make up for lost time. Why do we do it? Do we do it for the other people involved or do we do it for ourselves? I’ve tried to think I do what I do for others. In all honesty, I do it more for myself. I want those involved to know I love them before it’s too late. I try to assuage my own guilt. I know I can’t buy back a lifetime. I know I can’t take what little time there is in a given situation and change the past. I can make sure the future doesn’t follow the path of the past. Whether this choice is out of guilt or desire of comfort, I’m not sure.
The bottom line is we must face and come to terms with the choices we’ve made and the directions we’ve taken in life. Though we might not be as close to someone as we would have liked, we’ve each taken the paths in life that have made us happy. We’ve lived our lives, the very ones designed for us. Just because we realize that opportunities are fleeting to make things the way they never were does not mean we need to do so. We can respectfully love and support one another without pretending the relationship was anything other than it was. Regretting not having spent as much time with someone does not make you love them any less.
As I write this I am accepting the relationships in my life as they are. Each is intricately weaved placing each person and myself exactly where we fit. Sometimes we might not seem to even fit except in a minor way or from a distance…even that is fine. Love doesn’t require a constant presence in one another’s lives. I don’t think love has time or room for questioning. Love is a tenderness that accepts and supports.
I leave with this essay I published on Women’s Memoirs. http://womensmemoirs.com/memoir-scrapbooking/memoir-contest-winner-reflections-on-green-difficult-memories/ If you’re friends with me on Facebook, you might have already read it. If you haven’t read it, it might make my rambling post here a bit more coherent.