Have you ever felt like you have no direction? I’ve felt that way for a few months now. I feel like I am just about keeping afloat in a sea of issues.
I wish I could see beyond the water around me and instead concentrate on the dry, dry shores of the island on the horizon. Because that shore is there, no doubt about it. If I could just believe that fact, and believe that I can reach it, I can tell myself a new story- a story that does not involve drowning.
Things aren’t bad. Not really. I just need to learn to tell myself a different story. To change the tone, and focus on the journey, and not be obsessed with what the ending should be. because as long as I tell the story well in the here and now and tell it with hope and optimism, the ending will be just that: a good story. “She lived a good life.” I am living a good life.
Yesterday was the anniversary of an ending. My grandma died on the 17th December 2017. Full stop. The end of a story. And since then I’ve been thinking about all the new parts of my story that she can no longer be part of. Things have changed in the last year. I’ve started taking driving lessons, I’ve started taking more of an interest in makeup, I’ve taken more responsibility at home. I’ve grown up. But she’ll never see, never know.
As she died very suddenly, with no prior warning, I worry a lot about whether my grandma knew how good she was. I worry about whether she was telling herself the right story about who she was. The story of a strong and good mother and grandmother.
I wouldn’t like to think that she was telling a negative story in her head about herself. I wish I could sit down with her and hear her tell her story and tell it with a smile.
I think a lot about the stories we tell ourselves. I want to smile about my story when all is said and done and I hope with all of my heart that my Grandma somewhere, somehow is still smiling about her story.
Thank you for reading my ramblings.