if childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies then adulthood is the kingdom where nobody stays. at least not for very long.
everyone and everything is transitory. not everyone dies but that is the way many leave us. some move away, far or near, with promise on both sides to write, to call, to stay in touch. with every modern convenience available we still lose contact, friendships sever and we discover who really cares about our life and who we really care for.
yet others do not die, do not move and yet become absent. people we once thought we couldn't live without are abruptly not around anymore. in reality they didn't suddenly disappear. it was a gradual process taking weeks, months, maybe years. until one day you can't remember what they look like. oh, you can look at a picture and see them but it's just a picture. it's not really them. you close your eyes and can't clearly envision them. who they are is fading and while there are some vivid bright points and flashes of scenes in your mind the day to day embodiment is gone. sepia toned framed photos remain.
the worst part? there's no one to blame really. no fingers to point. it isn't just your fault for not calling. it's not just their fault for not returning an email. it's both and neither's fault that birthdays have been forgotten, anniversaries overlooked and invitations brushed aside in place of new responsibilities, new burdens, new joys, new opportunities. occasionally something happens and you believe for a while that 'oh now we'll be in touch.' yet "now" doesn't come. there are new people in their life, new people in yours. the space they left hasn't been filled exactly but the need they vacated has found a new provider.
you didn't mean to replace them and truly they can never be replaced but you begin to find that while you miss them, you have adapted and may no longer "need" them as you once supposed. and you realize--they no longer need you. you feel hurt and sad for your loss and theirs. the fact that Christ bonds you together appears an empty promise because the evidence has gone missing. you can't understand how the distance in time and space became so great if Jesus truly binds believers with one another in the body.
you begin to discover that everyone leaves. one way or the other you are not joined to anyone on earth eternally--no matter what the fairy tales say.
you begin to look back and recognize everyone you've left behind, unintentionally or not. sometimes, many times, the reason is simply life. change happens and someone drew away from someone else, caught up in a new life adventure. a job. a spouse. a child. a death. anything can start the initial separation. too caught up in ourselves we don't notice the distance until often it is too late to reverse course or change direction.
if you were looking for an optimistic or joyful end to these thoughts...i currently have none.
everyone and everything is transitory. not everyone dies but that is the way many leave us. some move away, far or near, with promise on both sides to write, to call, to stay in touch. with every modern convenience available we still lose contact, friendships sever and we discover who really cares about our life and who we really care for.
yet others do not die, do not move and yet become absent. people we once thought we couldn't live without are abruptly not around anymore. in reality they didn't suddenly disappear. it was a gradual process taking weeks, months, maybe years. until one day you can't remember what they look like. oh, you can look at a picture and see them but it's just a picture. it's not really them. you close your eyes and can't clearly envision them. who they are is fading and while there are some vivid bright points and flashes of scenes in your mind the day to day embodiment is gone. sepia toned framed photos remain.
the worst part? there's no one to blame really. no fingers to point. it isn't just your fault for not calling. it's not just their fault for not returning an email. it's both and neither's fault that birthdays have been forgotten, anniversaries overlooked and invitations brushed aside in place of new responsibilities, new burdens, new joys, new opportunities. occasionally something happens and you believe for a while that 'oh now we'll be in touch.' yet "now" doesn't come. there are new people in their life, new people in yours. the space they left hasn't been filled exactly but the need they vacated has found a new provider.
you didn't mean to replace them and truly they can never be replaced but you begin to find that while you miss them, you have adapted and may no longer "need" them as you once supposed. and you realize--they no longer need you. you feel hurt and sad for your loss and theirs. the fact that Christ bonds you together appears an empty promise because the evidence has gone missing. you can't understand how the distance in time and space became so great if Jesus truly binds believers with one another in the body.
you begin to discover that everyone leaves. one way or the other you are not joined to anyone on earth eternally--no matter what the fairy tales say.
you begin to look back and recognize everyone you've left behind, unintentionally or not. sometimes, many times, the reason is simply life. change happens and someone drew away from someone else, caught up in a new life adventure. a job. a spouse. a child. a death. anything can start the initial separation. too caught up in ourselves we don't notice the distance until often it is too late to reverse course or change direction.
if you were looking for an optimistic or joyful end to these thoughts...i currently have none.
Yes, what you say is very true, Mikki. Part of the painful process of so many of my transitions in my life (such as going back to college when you and your brother were very young, getting divorced, moving across the state, etc.) were painful because I was moving away from familiar things to the unfamiliar. And, in doing so, leaving behind some people.
ReplyDeleteAnd, others were moving away from me, even as I embraced the new labels that defined me--single mom, divorced woman, former minister's wife.
However, there is great joy and satisfaction in hanging on for dear life to that handful of friends and family members who WILL NOT LET YOU GO. Decades pass, and you don't have to explain your hurts and insecurities--they were there and they know what happened.
So, even though we will all die and even though we all be left by someone, or leave someone (not wanting to or meaning to, as in the case of death), love remains. Hope remains. Memories remain. The spaces filled by those we cherish may never be completely filled by someone else, and maybe that is alright--after all, I miss my mother every day, and wish for one more chance to tell her how wonderful she was to me. How could someone else "fill" that space?
The point is that we continue to look for connections. We keep a handful of friends and find some family members especially dear, and somehow it is enough.
Cherie