Oct 21

Life Goes On

So, let’s review:  A few weeks ago, I wrote that I was “looking for an extra 5%.”  By that, I meant that I was looking for a little more fun, more stimulation, more engagement, or some such.  My point was that, although my life is good and I’ve made progress toward being consistently positive, something has been just a little off.  I didn’t mean it as a complaint, and I accepted the suggestion of a friend that I have simply adapted to my encore life, so that it actually has a “sameness” that wasn’t there a couple of years ago.

And then, I lost my mother.  Since her passing, a lot of my time has gone to activities that are necessary in the circumstance.  I have a strong sense of wanting to honor her by making sure that things happen in the way she’d want them to go.  I’ve been grateful for the support of friends and family, and that’s a blessing.  It is a difficult time, as I try to maintain a little space each day for my professional activities and to keep hold of good habits that support a healthy life.  Right now, I’m not worried about that 5%.  It seems rather distant at the moment.

It’s an odd space, and I know that nearly everyone spends time here, sooner or later.  I’ve seen others deal with the pain or sadness of loss and keep moving.  I will do that, as well, as will the rest of my family, including my father.  Each person’s circumstance is his or her own, of course, and so the “answers” vary across individuals, as well.

For my dad, who had been my mother’s caretaker for the past couple of years, it is more than a loss.  It requires him to re-create a life that feels right and fills his days in better ways than simply passing the hours.  My dad’s dad lived to be 100, and my father expects to live longer than his father.  He’s a man with a strong will, so I won’t be surprised if he makes it.  He’s a member of the Greatest Generation and exemplifies everything the name implies.

For me, I think it will reshape some things and have an effect on how I use my time.  Still, it isn’t a matter of creating a different life; it is more purely a loss that can’t be replaced.  I’ll think of her every day, but the biggest void probably will occur when things happen that I know she would have enjoyed, or someone accomplishes something that would make her proud.

No broader message, here.  Still working it through.  Still believing.  Still holding strong to a search for well-being.