One of the things I miss most about Mom and Dad is their infernal, eternal, and ever-so-clever words of comfort.
Mom: “Stacey, you’ll be fine.”
(Never believed her!)
Dad: “A hundred years from now, we’ll all be dead. So what does it matter?”
(This one had me stumped for a long time!)
Mom: “Just do your very best.”
(I wasn’t reassured as a child as I didn’t think that would always cut it!)
Dad: ” If they don’t like it – too bad for them!”
(Didn’t get that one at all!)
How I miss their reassurances these days. It really doesn’t matter who you are or how confident you are – everyone needs a cheer-leader.
I have been juggling and struggling this week to find a balance between work, home-life, Dad’s condo, a visiting German student, and play. Play-time has never been a priority for me as my family were strong subscribers of the Puritan work ethic. Work first – then play. And there is too much work to do to play these days.
Play. For a long time I didn’t understand that word. I really thought it meant have fun at work. I think I still do. And I think a lot of my play is my work. Others, however, have a more realistic version of what play means… I think. And I get the impression that play means recreation. In any case, I am struggling to redefine my definition so that everyone in my family is on the same page.
Anxiety. This emotion seems to be two emotions attached to each other: stress and anticipated failure. I find myself anxious these days about a lot of things. It happens usually when things pile one on top of another. I forget to isolate the projects and so they blurr and give me an overwhelming sense of .. anxiety. Dad’s condo. insurance – moving furniture, marking assignments, making muffins, cleaning toilets… you get the picture.
Comfort. I long for Mom and Dad’s words, “Stacey, everything will be okay.”. We offer these words to our children – or we ought to offer these words to our children… but how often do we hear them as adults? Will everything be okay? I know, in the long run, things always find resolution. It’s the process that is sometimes derailing, debilitating, confusing, and frustrating. But, as fate would have it – there is always a better resolution that falls than one that could really ever be planned.
Yes. I miss my Dad’s casual, “Don’t worry, Stacey. You worry too much. 100 years from now… ”
I know, Dad, we’ll all be dead. Kind of puts things into perspective.
Everything will be alright.