Doing My Best
The longer this strange and terrible estrangement goes on, the more blind corners and hairpin turns I come up against. I think I’m doing ok, then I receive a video or see a picture and I feel like I’m skidding off the road into a ravine. Yes, I think I’m going on with my life, working at gaining wisdom, compassion and maturity, but there is always the ghost of my missing son and grandchildren haunting me. There are days when I feel enervated, tired, headachy for no apparent reason. I now realize it is brought on by low-lying depression. I usually break down and cry at some point, then eventually the lassitude abates and I resume what has become my new normal of doing my best to live a full life with a broken heart.
I have prayed, asked for clarity, done my best to learn from all this. I’ve read everything I can find on the subject of personal transformation, love, compassion, patience, forgiveness and spirituality. I work diligently on letting go, developing faith in my life, accepting what is and surrendering. I take care of my health, get enough sleep, exercise. I’m a good listener and do my best to be kind and thoughtful. I light candles for my son and grandchildren and everyday I visualize us together, hugging, laughing and loving each other. I have been in therapy, practiced mindfulness, meditated….I’m doing my best.
It just seems that this kind of thing – being abandoned and alienated by my own adult child – has no closure, no resolution. I can’t put it behind me, like an argument that ends with insights and mutual understanding. The bridge between us has been destroyed in a fire of confusion and misunderstandings and it’s hell knowing that those I love and miss so much are going on with their lives on the other side of the chasm.
I have to forgive myself for suffering, for periodically falling into depression. I’m not superhuman – my moods fluctuate just like the changing weather, the moon or ocean tides. I am doing my best, even on those days when I am sad. I still eat three squares a day, walk the dog, see friends and go on with life. That’s enough to ask of myself – of anyone, really.