My sister brought that up today. She’s a Bob Dylan fan and he’s the one that said, “There is nothing so stable as change.” In the following posts, you’ll see me mention her a lot. She, family (including friends I see as family) are an integral part of who I am and who I want to become. We were talking about change, and I was saying how I liked change for me (i.e., me going off to different countries, me doing different things), but I didn’t like change for those around me. It’s a bit selfish, I know. Okay, a lot selfish. If you truly love someone, you want what is best for their happiness. Typically, change is the answer to that question. On the inside, now after this post on the outside, I want to come back to what I know as familiar and know it, more importantly my position in it, hasn’t changed.
However, life moves on. It makes me sad because I want to hold onto every moment. Me wanting to savor every moment links back to my beginning. I’ve been trying to resolve the past for the longest time. I had bitterness for wrongs done me and it held me back, which is why I was trying to resolve it. And I did. The part I’m trying to resolve now, or perhaps gladly accept is a better term, is the past I can no longer have. Kids in typical, even dysfunctional families, don’t always see what’s going on with the family dynamic. When I was younger it seemed like we had huge family reunions all the time, my grandfather being the central adhesive and that my family got along really well. You hear about sun-soaked or sun-dappled memories. That’s what they are for me.
However, when I got older, after my grandfather died, things seemed to fall apart. I’m not going to go into all the things because it is a very long story and I’m trying to be concise. There were things, tensions I noticed I hadn’t noticed before. Even going back and watching home videos (which always make me cry by the way and those who know me know I’m not a crier), I notice the tensions. Of course, I see little me toddling around oblivious, simply seeing those I love and who love me hanging around. I just shake my head at her.
Ever since it stopped , I have found myself, mostly subconsciously, longing after then searching for a new family. Sure, I still get along well with many of my family members, but more as individuals and not the unit I always thought it was. When I think about it, it’s actually quite pathetically funny. Through the years, I have tried to immerse myself in groups, because I liked the people obviously, but I was always searching for what I’d had. I had a cold dose of reality, or rather a few, when I realized time and again, that you can’t force yourself to become part of a family, not really.
You’re going to think I’m insane when I tell you that in times of deeper grief, I had considered, multiple times, the idea of marrying into various groups throughout time, just to be part of their family. That was how bad I wanted it. Nuts, right? Well, being that I am a much more logical person than emotional, that idea flew out the window. From an emotional point of view, it would be cruel to whoever I married because I would be marrying them for their family. It’s not much better than marrying someone for their money.
Furthermore, I am getting the feeling that things really do work out the way they’re supposed to. It is something I have resented and grieved about for a very long time. Maybe I am meant to be alone. (I know, cue the violin.)
In all seriousness though, it all stems from my past. I’ve always felt the need for family, to belong. I’m not the only one. That’s why there are so many lonely people in the world. It is harder I think because I feel I once had it, even though my logical side knows it was an illusion to shelter a young child. I want it again. I always hope, if I ever do get married, that the dude will have a really big family. That would be really nice. However, I feel as if this is a character-developing period in my life. I already have pretty good character,with flaws obviously, but I am guessing God’s not done with me, and this idea of feeling alone, feeling lonely, will make me stronger for bare years down the road.
Those who are believers would say, “Oh, well you’re never alone. You have God.” There are times I knew God was present and my spirit was at peace, but my human self, this need to have interaction and to belong, felt very much alone. It’s something I’m working out with Him and something, hopefully someday soon, I will gladly accept. I do what I can, love those that Dad calls “My People” with all the big heart that I have, and continue trudging on.
For a disclaimer, I am genuinely and generally a very happy person. I have everything to be happy about. There are certainly those who don’t have what I have, and I have no reason to be unhappy, but I’m one of those people, because of God and how He made me, that values the things that are immaterial over other things because they are longer lasting and they mean more. Occasionally my past memories will rear their head, and I’ll remember that it’s something I have to resolve so I can move on. It’s very hard to move forward when you are tied, especially by the organ that keeps you alive, to the past. But despite everything, and with God’s help, here’s to letting go and moving on.
Photo Cred: https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwi5_8f5oMPUAhUCJiYKHX69DioQjRwIBw&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.huffingtonpost.com%2Fentry%2Fpower-of-holding-hands_us_57435a8be4b00e09e89fc162&psig=AFQjCNG7VQjQi_zuVCTBjCkqRhnqd-7_kg&ust=1497733155164911