Musings Over The Weekend
Ceasefire My children are talking again. That is such a relief to me. In their brotherly business, most days they are thick as thieves! They support each other, cover up for each other, and stand up to me or anybody else who is criticizing one of them. But as rarely as it happens, there are times when they completely and utterly get on each other’s nerves. They quarrel, fight, and get nasty. The only thing they don’t care about AT ALL when this happens is me! I have to sit through their meanness to each other, their lack of forgiveness for each other, and their continued petty bickering during these darker times. Thank God since they have become older, they have stopped asking me to take sides or talk in support of their statements! If ever I say anything, each of them turns to me and says: “Mom, please stay out of this!” This time their battle grew too long, breaking a record, when they didn’t acknowledge each other for three weeks running. I was miserable. Though each of them treated me a lot more nicely during these three weeks (well, they have to be nice to someone in the house), I didn’t like it! I wished they would be kinder to each other and be aloof and flippant to me, as young adult men tend to be with their mothers. Mothers love them anyway, is the way this goes. I saw them talking congenially again today. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it felt really good to watch it from a distance. Phew! God’s small favors make the world go round, is what I think. Delete I pushed delete on my unfinished article. It’s gone, and I’m free of the pressure of having to finish something which was too hard to finish, a story too hard to tell, invoking deep and sad emotions of identity in me. I am already starting something new, something happier, lighter, and easier to tell others. I wished I could occasionally do the same with other issues in life which follow me and hang over me like a black cloud, causing me agony in making a decision and taking appropriate action. I wished life had a delete button I could push sometimes. This responsible adult business is just too hard sometimes. I grew up entirely too fast, assuming serious responsibilities at an early age, something that has caused me pride and a distinct sense of accomplishment all my life. I would like to think that the stories I can tell now are the direct results of that life. Only some days, I want to look at those who look up to me to help, to decide, to lead, and to tell them the direction to take, that today my role as mother, manager, mentor, friend, confidant, and elder is mysteriously deleted, so please find suitable replacement! All of a sudden that image feels funny to me: I can just imagine the bewildered looks on their faces! Deleted? I don’t think they’ll go for it, though! Maybe I won’t want to insist on it, either. Who would I be without my constituencies? That is not a very funny image, I must say! Growing Pains I found out that some of the things I write are “borrowed” and posted in places I don’t like, without my knowledge or approval. This feels weird. I have to get used to this internet world, where once you say something it is out for the world to see and to use in eternity, it seems. A big part of me feels so special to be a part of this international tribe that internet users now are, but a part of me grieves my privacy, as I write openly and honestly, and talk about my personal life and beliefs in my articles and posts. Others who read what I say know a heck of a lot more about me than I know about them. I hear from different sources that many people come to visit my blog, and I am honored for that, but other than the few good friends who do leave comments and let me “see” them, I don’t know anything about the rest. I wished they would leave comments, even if it is just to say hi, so I knew they came by. And I really would appreciate it if people who borrow quotes from me, at least let me know that they have done it. I am not a famous author, analyst, or activist. I’m just an ordinary person with a lot of feeling for the world and ten itchy fingers. Anyhow, it felt strange and I need to figure out more about how I feel about this before I can say more. Feeling Somewhat Accomplished Some paintings are now up on the walls of my house. Most boxes are unpacked. I am slowly remembering where many things are now, still desperately trying to locate my “good scissors.” I finished my volunteer work, and actually cooked more elaborate meals in my kitchen this weekend! I swept the dust balls that were quickly becoming the bane of my existence, and dusted surfaces that needed it badly. I still have a major paper filing project which will take another whole weekend to do. I visited with family and friends and paid attention to some neglected friends locally and abroad. It was a productive weekend all in all. I am now off to the week ahead which is going to be sad at work with important deadlines looming.