Job interview soon. An opening, hopefully, into a place I see myself being involved with for a long time. The Ronald McDonald House Charities of Oregon. Either way, whether I work there or whether I volunteer there, the idea feels like a "finding of myself" or a return to my true nature.
When I started Dumpster Diving (and before while I was making the choice to come and be closer to my mother), I had no idea so much more would unfold, and so quickly. What I'm finding is that there are things very hard for me to write about. Certain situations that I didn't count on experiencing, had no way of predicting. Hard stuff that is tied in so emotionally for me that the words illude me. I try to type, and I'm struck with the heaviness of what I see and feel. My mind goes blank.
I realized this morning, that regardless of circumstance and situation, everything almost always falls into place. Even when the beginning feels like being shoved from a plane and the fall seems without a parachute or a net. Even when the landing gets tricky, bumpy or harsh.
My mom and stepdad are struggling. Of course. My mother suffered a stroke a year and a half ago, which prompted the onset of Azheimer's. My stepdad has really bad knees, high blood pressure, diabetes (complete with daily insulin shots), back issues. Day after day he does his best. Goes to work, gives it 150%. Takes care of my mom. Medical bills mount. Water heater breaks. Car troubles. There's this sliding backwards effect that takes place... takes its hold. Month after month becomes harder to make ends meet. A proud man finding himself facing life's hardships in a way he never anticipated. Making decisions that go against his belief systems and his hopes and dreams for his and her lives. Tough stuff. But what I see is this: my parents are made of "tougher". Still they rise. Still they forge ahead. Still they march on, accepting what is, trying their best, and giving life all they know how to give. Sometimes I think people aren't made of flesh, bones and blood. But rather steel. Or maybe gold. I'm amazed at the armor that sometimes takes shape and assists us through what is hurled our direction. Watching them from the sidelines, or through the embraces of hugs when possible, I feel completely helpless. And faced with a decision. I either let what is crushing them slowly crush me completely down... or I stand tall, with shoulders back and chin up, like their example. And keep reminding myself that we all fall into place. Always. The landing spot might not be where we intended or how. But nothing gets the best of us if we don't allow that result. Nothing robs or ruins us unless we allow ourselves to be robbed or ruined. Fall and rise. Rise and fall. All part of the game we're playing as inhabitants in this place.
My son recently reminded me during a time when I was completely panicked and stressing about something totally out of my control that we should all be prepared each and every day to just "be surprised". I had asked him to help me "see the funny" in the situation I was experiencing. Hoping to lighten myself up a bit. After a few minutes of thinking... he came up with that response, which at the time didn't seem humorous at all. Until later, when my sister and I were travelling together and uncomfortable situations would happen and we'd look at each other and both yell, "Be surprised!!!" I found myself able to laugh off the stresses. Put things in perspective. Giggle rather than cry.
Sometimes I think that is why I made the choice to come to this place. To help my mom and I (and the rest of the family) find some kind of lightness and ability to keep grinning even when the darkness settles in.
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