I am reminded everyday that life is fleeting and our time with our families and loved ones is always finite.
That said, however, I, like most people, I’m sure, tend to take my family and life in general for granted.
Recently, an actress died from a seemingly benign fall during a snow skiing lesson.She seemed fine; nothing out of the ordinary occurred except she fell and bounced her head on the ground.
Two days later she is dead from blunt head trauma. I do not know this woman and it was shocking to me. I can only imagine how bowled over her immediate family is right now. One day she was with them, literally, the next day she was not. No warning. Just gone.
My son recently sustained a much worse head injury. His outcome was decidedly different. He had short-term memory loss; he had headaches and a bit of vertigo. She simply fell onto soft snow. He slammed into concrete. When I think of how differently it could have turned out, I can only shudder.
I am thankful he is still with me to torment me longer with his foolishness and teenage antics. I am thankful that he will be around to get on my nerves and irritate the crap out of me. I am thankful he is still here filling my heart with his presence and making my life what it is because of him.
I struggle trying to find time to write. It is almost exclusively due to the demands my family makes on me. The “mom job” is a job that is multifaceted. Everyone needs us for many different reasons and each of them, no matter how insignificant it may appear is necessary to sustain life.
Like so many other women, I so often have to choose between time spent with my family or time spent writing. There are many times where I have to put my foot down and demand boundaries and respect for my time. But, most of the time, I simply stop what I am doing to help my family. There are times when I want to scream from frustration. There are times I want to run far, far away. There are times that I simply sit and cry from the inability to plan and follow through with the plan because someone else or something else has come along and thrown a cog in my wheel.
Yet, if I had to choose between writing or having my family around me – whole - I would choose my family. I have to remind myself every day, they are the reason I feel complete and sustained. They are the ones who give my life purpose and definition. They are the ones who love me and support me and care for me. They are the ones that I love, support and care for. My life would be dull, boring, sad and empty without them.
Yes, I’m sure I could write more, but about what? They give my life texture and form. They fill the void and give my writing depth and meaning. Without them, I would be a lonely woman and my writing would be meaningless.