Sunday, September 20, 2009

The Perfect Slice

Do you remember those choose your own adventure books from when you were a kid? I loved those books, the possibilities were seamlessly endless. The princess runs off with the pirate. A magic spell is broken. The mystery is solved. Although I have to admit I often cheated, scanning ahead to see which combination would bring about the storyline that I found most appealing. Sometimes I wish that I could apply one of those books to life, to look ahead and pick the chapters that make me the happiest. But life isn’t like that. Brilliant observation, I know.

As I wrote in my earlier posts, my mom survived a ruptured aneurysm this summer. After intensive care, post surgical recovery, time in a nursing home, and then moving in with me for a short while she is finally “recovered”. What I haven’t told you is that my father is also dying. He was diagnosed with Stage 4 prostate cancer in 2003, and on top of that this past November suffered a stroke. While my mom improves, my dad is slipping away. The intersection of their respective situations is moving, perplexing, and fills me with emotions that I can’t reach yet.

My sisters and I put our lives on hold this summer to care for both of our parents, and it has been the hardest summer of my life. We’ve been living with cancer as a family for 5 years . . . and you do live with it as a family. It has affected most of the decisions I’ve made, and it has changed the dynamic of our family tremendously. Every moment, every holiday, every experience feels like it has potential to be “the last”. Then this happened to my mom. What I thought was the worst thing that could ever happen to me, losing my father, was trumped by the sudden and almost fatal loss of my mother. It has left me grappling for answers, for which there is no good response. Searching for reasons in the dark universe. Like pulling on a loose string, unraveling more questions with each tug. The biggest question of all, at least for me as it relates to this experience is, “What am I supposed to learn from this?” I hope that it is the realigning of my compass; putting me on the right path to the person I’m supposed to be.

I grew up in an extremely creative family. Both of my parents were saturated with artistic talent. Through the years, due to health and age, both of them have been robbed of the things they love to do. My mom lost a significant portion of her eyesight to macular degeneration. No longer able to sew, paint, or read her books. My dad finally realized his dream of the perfect workshop, now left to sit and look at it out the window crippled by his disease. It reminds me of that Twilight Zone episode with Burgess Meredith, ‘Time Enough at Last’ from 1959. A humble bank teller and book lover that finds himself the last man on earth after a nuclear war. He has all the time in the world now to read his precious books, but he breaks his glasses, and is left alone and without a means to access his passion. To quote his character, "That's not fair... that's not fair at all... There was time now.... There was all the time I needed! It's not fair". (Check out this link for the full episode) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b6ClcI5nTs8

Is it ever the right time? Is there ever enough time? What does it take to inspire change? I’ve been thinking a lot about life, and it’s either my love of all things baked (I never met a donut I didn’t like), or it’s the years I’ve spent in an administrative role . . . but lately I’ve been looking at life like a pie chart. This percentage is spent on working to make a living or going through college, this percentage is spent growing up, this percentage is spent on responsibilities and obligations that are outside of our control. When do you get to that awesome perfect slice? Warm from the oven with a side of vanilla ice cream . . . when things are just as you want them to be. The part where the worries are small, the joys are large, the time is plentiful to do whatever fulfills you the most. There is urgency in my soul that has never been there before. An overwhelming fear that I’ll put off my goals and dreams too long.

I’m ready for a new pie . . . and a good book. If I don’t like the ones that life is serving up, I guess it’s up to me to bake my own, and write the chapters for myself. It’s true, some of the magic is already broken, and some of the mysteries are already solved . . . but there are more adventures, and there are more questions in need of answers. This time I get to be the pirate.