It keeps me precariously perched on the bough of the boat looking for icebergs to warn them of the danger with no regard for my own life.
My sister in law (not legal) and I were talking tonight about how we have come to fear life, fearing people, fearing what can and will happen. She does not have a difficult child, but has 5 garden variety children, all grown, and garden variety grandchildren, and a husband who is ill and depressed.
I asked her. Do you think this is a normal part of life as we age, that this happens? Do you think it is we have received so many hits and hurts that there is no recovering completely anymore, and we have learned too well that engagement with life brings danger or hurt?
Or do you think it is because we have become weaker, less capable?
What do you think, she asked.
The thing is Tish, the children, and your dear grandson
are your life. How do you live if they are damaged irrevocably? That is the question beneath all of it. After all is said and done we choose between arms and legs because we feel we must. You watch for icebergs because you do not know a way to not do so. You know the harm to yourself. It is that you fear it may become worse. And that you among those you love, may suffer worse.
I think there is the need to acknowledge the rationality of our choices in very difficult situations. It is not some defect that can be recovered from, I believe. It is life itself.
What, really, are the ways you could have chosen better, Tish, given who you are? If you had chosen differently, would you still be you? You are choosing for yourself, I believe. Even if it ends badly.
I do not know the answers. I really do not know.