Every once in a while I find photos, like this one, which place me on the timeline of changes. This was not so long ago, and Dad was holding his own, if barely. Sometimes I feel like the only one who holds their secrets, and even I was never as inside as I thought. Dad took a lot to the grave, I think. And Mom, post-stroke, cannot tell me much anymore. It's all locked in her eyes.
I don't know how long this will go on. Today she sounded tired, frail and sad. I could barely keep her on the phone. Her confusion is mounting. Yet she lives. How does my tiny mother keep going?
I compare all this to the marathon, and everything which comes after mile 18. By the time I was 3-4 miles out from the finish line I never thought I'd make it. Runners passing me, time- and the whole world- passing me by. But I never really entertained quitting; I just realized I'd have to suck up the chance that I'd be ridiculously slow. Now I feel the same way. The big constant push, up to the end game, is over. The last leg of the journey of my parents, as my mother tries to find her way through this to her own resolution, is upon us. And for the first time in over 10 years I begin to speculate on life after.
Is it wrong to feel relief? I do. If the big goals comes together there is a whole new life waiting for me around that corner. The race of endurance could give way to the smorgasbord of possibility; where to run, what to do, how to live a life on my own terms with my own 'mission' and happiness in mind....it has been such a long haul. But every run I am out there, like today, for a substantial time is practice for endurance, mental fortitude, building the reserves I need. I have learned, from running, just how strong I can be, if I focus my mind on the task. The energy all around us is in full throttle- we can tap this, we can allow it to take us up to the next level, and find our True Life waiting.
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