It’s the end of October. Midterms may be done, but there’s still half a semester to go. Papers pile up, emails are no longer fun to read, and there’s always another assignment to do. On top of that, my job schedules me on the days I could get major studying done. My life revolves around my planner.
Then I get a text. I think: no big deal. The text is probably from a friend trying to convince me to buy a Halloween costume. I am wrong. It’s from Aunt Robin stating that Granny’s health is deteriorating and I should visit her before the traditional Thanksgiving gathering. Still, my thoughts revolve around school and work for a little bit. I look to my planner as if it’s the Bible and feel conflicted, as the chances of finding time to squeeze in a visit before the New York trip seem slim to none. Then I realize my selfishness, throw the planner into the back seat, and drive to Moody (North of Tahlequah) the next day.
How did I dare to put my loved ones second? It’s in my generation’s bloodstream. We want to have as much control over our lives as possible. Work, despite its mood swings, stays stern with its expectations. People are unpredictable, and in a speeding society, other people's lives and needs don’t mesh well with the plans that have been forced on us or the ones we make for ourselves.
I wonder if society will come to the point where we know only our immediate family. No aunts, no cousins, and no grandparents. What if my mother had stayed so busy that she never took us to the annual Thanksgiving feast or the Easter hunt held at Granny’s house every year? It’s those traditions that I can always count on every year. It’s the only way I know who my second cousins even are.
I wonder what it would be like to truly have family be the focus of my entire life. I’m not sure if I could do it. I’ve always been the ambitious one, willing to move away from them for whatever comes next, yet I expect my family to be there for me. My mother’s side always has.
Article comments
1 - Baronius
Brunette - This is a very well-written article. A couple of notes about grieving: the stages happen in no particular order, and they come and go as they please. The schematic of grief as organized stages is a bit overrated. Grief amounts to unrealistic highs and unrealistic lows.
When the anger comes, it'll be point-blank visceral. You can't prepare yourself for it, but don't act on it (I'm convinced that most family conflicts surrounding wills stem from grieving anger.)