Some days I do not do well at all. It really shouldn’t surprise the people who really listen, but most of us hear only part of what is being said to us. Our pre-conceived ideas block what doesn’t fit in with our expectations, or our heart is so full of need that we only here the things that fill the darkness. It happens. We are, after all, only human. That means me too.
I have to remind myself of that more than you know. Then again, I’ll bet you don’t know much. I’ll bet you don’t know I spent most of my life with no greater desire than to be a wife and mother. My purpose in life, every little thing I did was preparation for understanding the world I was bringing a life into, and making that life as blessed as I could. I wanted to raise a child with new eyes on this old world, so they would not know sorrow as deeply but care even more. My child was to complete the changes I started. My child would bring peace and tolerance to everyone, even if they couldn’t make everyone agree. My child would share their strange understanding and what was once “crazy” would become the basis for a positive foundation for a new world serenity.
I’m almost 40 with poor health and even poorer coffers. I will not likely be having a child. In fact, at thins point I think it’s irresponsible for anyone to bring a new life to this horror we call existence. Maybe that is the way I have rationalized something that I thought I should die without. Go ahead; re-read that last sentence. I grew up thinking that, unless I produce children of my own, my life is not worth living. No one impressed this belief on me. It started as a small cultural idea and it grew to my great plan as I worked with other people’s kids. Not wanting my child to struggle as I have, I wanted to be completely prepared before I had my own.
Who can ever be completely prepared? I thought finances were the most important thing to have in line before having a kid. After a certain age, you will discover that the very same people who were proud of your fiscal responsibility to your unborn child, will begin to suggest that love is more important than money, and maybe one doesn’t require complete readiness to responsibly bear fruit. It’s interesting to watch people change around me.
When a life’s goal is taken from you (or at least the expectation of fulfillment is significantly diminished) you have to look at the world differently. I have learned to accept that God does not see fit for me to have a child. There are many people out there rejoicing that I am not extending these genes that they do not approve of: crazy people shouldn’t be allowed to procreate. As I sit back and watch my god-children grow, I have even learned to be thankful that I have no children. I understand that we cannot force our offspring into the creatures we ant them to be, and, in a moment of crisis, those children may turn into someone you don’t like. I’m not entirely sure I could survive the disappointments had they been my own children. But I look at them knowing that I was not able to have the influence I wanted to, so their faults were not mine. When a parent looks back on their children with sorrow, that parent must know their at least partial responsibility for those faults and then self-evaluate. No one will be perfect, but the major mistakes made that reflect in one’s own child, must certainly be heart-breaking.
I know it is for my parents when they look at me sometimes. I know they would have preferred that I not have social anxiety, arthritis and an empty wallet. I know there are times when they look back and try to figure out what they could have changed in order to to change my current circumstance. When this happens I remind them that I am who I am because things happened exactly the way they did. I may not be fit to be a mother, but I’m still pretty awesome.
Who else do you know who is in as bad a state as I am in, and still truly appreciates what I have over lamenting over what I don’t have (usually)? Who else do you know who thinks that the world is in bad shape, and that people are basically selfish and therefore cruel, and yet still professes hope? There is nothing here for me. There is no reason for me to remain in an existence that is cruel, unless I think I can change it.
I am not suicidal. As much as I enjoy education through observation, I am not yet ready to learn about the Next Great Adventure. That doesn’t mean that there aren’t times when I wonder why I bother to stay with the cruelty that is this plane, but to move on is permanent. There is still too much left here for me to do.
Because I don’t understand all of this, I don’t even truly understand God, but I do understand that I leave an imprint on each being I touch. If I died today, I will leave behind an even greater legacy than DNA. Unlike others, I understand that, in making these struggles public, I have changed world perception. This change may only start with a few people, and it may be completely mis-understood, but you who have read this understands that, not valuing individual existence, does not make a person suicidal. You have learned that it is possible to exist within a negative reality, while maintaining a positive outlook. You have learned that it’s ok to struggle with the way you want to be verses the reality you find yourself in, and that those struggles do not in any way diminish you. Like me, you are human, with your own personal ups and downs. You, who are more loved than the children I will never have, you are my legacy. You will go out into the world with eyes that see differently; you will share our vision and together, we will do what no human alone can.