Twice A Child
Things have changed quite a lot over these past several months.
In some ways, I hardly recognize myself anymore. In some ways, I see myself clearly as I am. This “as I am” is who I have always been. Albeit this “as I am” has sadly all too often been covered by accumulating concrete layers of cultural and philosophical ideals and notions heaped in generous measures upon me by well-intentioned others as well as by stupid choices of my own doing. I have made my share of stupid choices.
I am of the mind that I am far from alone in this regard. That’s life, that great merry-go-round that puts us through the paces that bring us to where we are now and onward to where we will be” if and when” we one day get there.
My mom, bless her departed sweet soul, when talking about my aged dad, numerous times used the phrase ... Once a man, twice a child.
I could see it and watched it happen in my dad. But I could not really get it at the time. We get what we get when we get it. I get it now. I can see it quite clearly happening in me. Is it something progressive or regressive? I do not know. Maybe it is both working together synergistically like two opposing energy poles deep within our composition. It has been going on for a while now. I think it started back there in that deep dark hole where I felt very much like a lost child not knowing which way to go and found comfort in absolutely nothing including the kind words and gestures directed toward me.
I found this lost little boy in that hole, wrapped my arms around him to protect him and take care of him, and have since been realizing, like some kind of grand unfolding epiphany, that the little boy in the dark hole was me. And in that little boy I understood and embraced my truest essence.
Yeah. It’s all downhill from here. And at some point …
Oh. I’m a long way from needing someone to change my dirty diapers. That’s not a mental picture of myself that I enjoy painting. But hell, if I keep living, which I thoroughly intend to do, the possibility of some CNA cleaning my tail increases. Ha. You’ve just got to find the humor in crap. Pun intended.
I am not trying to reinvent myself this side of that dark hole that I fell into after Shirli died. I do not have any aspirations toward learning how to be somebody or something that I am not already. I am simply rather on a quest to be my truest self despite what anyone may think of this self of mine. Being my truest self, at such a chronological and circumstantial time as this, is liberating. It is a freedom replete with its own diverse set of personal challenges.
