Pages

1.06.2013

THE GRAYNESS OF CHANGE


Silence can be hard for me.  I don't mean that it's hard for me to be where it is silent or quiet.  I actually like quiet alone time.  I re-charge and garner a new batch of energy for my batteries by being away from people and out in nature.  What I mean, is that silence can be deafening when we are separated from those we love.  That separation from them creates silence.  I don't like that kind of silence. 

Today is gray.  It matches the state of my inward color as well.  Today I hate the long winter stretch that is January.  Once in awhile a gray day is actually restive, rejuvenating, even refreshing.  Being east of the Great Lakes we are privy to more than 200 cloudy/overcast/no sun days a year.  It's like living under an umbrella at times. Some days it can get to you, like today!

I took vitamin D today to combat the lack of it one gets in this part of the Midwest in January.  If I thought I wouldn't overdose on vitamin D, I would have taken the whole bottle in an attempt to brighten the gray outside and inside of me. 

Gray really is more than a color isn't it?  It's a state of blah-ness.  It's a place of neither moving forward or necessarily backtracking.  It's the not clearly defined area of subjective morality and ethics.  It's just not a pleasant place to be.

Sometimes there are definitive reasons for gray skies; a stalled weather front, living in perma-cloud alley, the clash of hot and cold fronts.  Here in the Great Lakes region of the Midwest it is a normal part of our weather and sky.  I should be used to it, but I continue to hate it with a growing passion as each year passes.  It makes me feel bound and cagey and boxed in.  For me it's like having to eat corn meal mush and raisins for 4 months straight.  Torture!

Sometimes there are definitive reasons for grayness on the inside as well; a major disappointment, grief, a changing of seasons in our life, mid-life questioning, health issues that don't relent, frustration in our job, financial stress, parenting burdens, the desire for change that isn't coming or dreading the change that we see on the horizon but are unable to stop. 

I love certain things in my life.  Those things, people and circumstances that I love deeply I am always extremely mournful at the changing of their guard.  I can mentally understand change as part of the natural process of all living things, the natural world we live in, and even as part of God's plan to get us to live and rely on the unseen (Him) and not the seen (what we know and see), but it is very hard heart-wise.

My gray is in part due to the fact that my daughter is leaving for a year in Africa with her husband.  I love their dedication to want to give up a year of their lives to do something for God.  I admire that.  Very proud of them I am.  But I don't like that it changes her proximity and my communication with her dramatically.  I will miss our sarcastic ways with each other played out daily with texting, the fact that she still loves to sit close to me on the couch and that she stills snuggles into me for reassuring hugs and love when we are together.  She speaks my language and lets me love her out loud in my expressive sappy way.   

I've tried desperately hard to not succumb to the gray as the days dwindle to their leaving down to only 5 left.  This isn't about me.  It shouldn't be.  But, unfortunately it's a change on my horizon that I just am not wanting to see come to pass.  Though I want with all my heart our kids to live full and experientially rich lives, I want to be near them on a daily basis. 

I realized today I am old.  My desire to love and support our kids I gladly place above my own aspirations and desires.  They matter far more than my attaining certain life goals I have looming in front of me.  They are the things in our lives that mean the most, matter far longer after we're gone than will anything else, and surpass anything we accomplish ever will.  It's why I realize parents of grown children want to live near their kids and grand kids. 

With pride I say I am blessed to have her as my daughter and her husband as my son-in-law.   With sadness I say I am gray inside and out with the thought that there will be no Hannah for quite some time.  No texts, phone calls, dinners at our house, movies, shopping, laughing or hugging.  Mostly I am gray because she is my sunny sky.

I feel gray and a bit selfish.  Why is it I want the gray sky to clear and it seems to not leave, but though I want Hannah to stay she is going?  Change is usually like that.

1 comment:

  1. My Daughter (Ashley) just returned from a 2 month mission in Niger, Africa. She worked in a hospital, orphanage, and school while there.

    She absolutely loved her time there, and grew very fond of the local people and children. It was an awesome experience for her.

    Where is your Daughter heading to in Africa?

    Dave Lechlitner

    ReplyDelete