It is my fiftieth, or is it my fifty first year now, and I find myself reflecting on what I have done right and what I have done wrong and compare my life to others, as we all do. I concede that while there is not right or wrong way to live our lives, there are some things I admire in others. I also concede that some of those things I admire most in others may not be for me. Let me explain what I mean.
I admire those dear friends of mine, married to their childhood sweethearts, and married, happily, though not without challenges, for thirty years or more. The love and devotion and care and the way they have made it all work is something I think is absolutely amazing. For those lucky families who have lived in the same home for over twenty years, provided a stable and loving home for their children, where they were safe and happy and nurtured, I admire and respect this achievement and as far as I am concerned you should get some sort of award. I really mean it. Then I see the same families, having done everything possible to provide a stable, loving safe environment, who lose a loved one, through illness, drugs, accident or other tragedy. Utterly devastating, unfair and sad beyond belief.
I know, I was in one of those families. Apparently my mother and father doted on me. They had been married for twelve years without being able to have children, then I arrived. They were further blessed five years later with the arrival of my sister. Five years after that my world fell apart when my father died, of a cerebral haemorrhage. I managed to survive childhood and teenage hood, though having discovered boys, cigarettes and alcohol (not in that order) didn’t get the grades needed for university. My mother had retreated into her shell at the loss of my father, and although she and my younger sister enjoyed a close relationship we were estranged, even while I lived in the family home.
This had such an impact on me that when I got married and had my beautiful children I was determined to make their home life as normal and stable and safe and loving as humanly possible. No way would I be anything like my mother, dear, proud elegant lady that she was, not the loving and caring, hands on hugging type, and her life experiences had made her that way. I wasn’t criticising who she was or what she did, I was just determined to do it differently.
Now I am not going into detail here, but it didn’t work so well. For a variety of reasons, after having four beautiful children, I found myself as a single parent, with nearly no experience of family to draw on to provide a stable and loving, supportive family home for my children. This was devastating and although I didn’t realise it at the time, my subsequent behaviour were symptoms of depression. This isn’t my story of why and how I found myself in some really stupid situations and how family suffered as a result.
My reflections are that I think we are all hard wired for certain behaviours, based on past life experiences. The title gives it away, my reflection on my life thus far and that over half a century I have lived in many homes, only just now being in a position to own my (our) own home, which is absolutely awesome. I haven’t travelled extensively, okay so hardly at all, in this life, but I have lived an unsettled existence, many rented properties, a few relationships, rather than the whole one home, one relationship for life. Call me a slow learner, or I can make the excuse that I didn’t have positive family experiences to call upon. Maybe this is what was meant to happen, that I was to give birth to four beautiful, clever and talented children and let them go to live their own life. Maybe I was meant to wander, until getting to this very place, this very existence.
I am not making excuses, not justifying my behaviour, not moaning or whinging or asking for anything. I am sharing my reflection in case it helps anyone else struggling to understand where they fit or what is happening in their life. We aren’t all meant to have the perfect chocolate box, peaceful, happy and drama free existence, but if we don’t ever give up, if we believe in ourselves, we will find our own happiness. Happiness is so very individual. Who we choose as our life partner, whether we have children or not, where we live, there is no definitive right or wrong. What is right for us is for us to decide. It may take decades of nomadic wandering to find it. Don’t ever give up. You are worth it. You are meant to be.