Never Happier

 
"Tears were spilling down my face. I'd cried more this summer than I had in all the years since I was Izzy's age, and I'd never been happier. "

            Mary Jane by Jessica Anya Blau

I could have written this line. It seems to me -- and I admit that I am not an expert --that when we accept that which needs grieving, life gets easier. This has been the absolute hardest lesson for me to learn. I come from very stoic stock. We are not "crying" people. My family does not even cry at funerals. I once bragged that if you put 12 of my closest friends in a room, together they would not know half the turning points in my life. I rode over all of them and stuffed them down. It was a source of pride.

Disclaimer: This was all before the 90's when I chose to make my life an open book. It turned out that it was MUCH easier to just open the book than try to keep it bound shut. 

The question then, is what is going on with all these tears? More importantly, is it "above the line" grief -- true sadness that comes from a place of empathy and compassion or "below the line" crying that is dramatic, self-pitying, or attention seeking? So the answer is a bit of both, but mostly the former. I have some heartbreak over my "Middle Little" being locked away from me. There are many, many good points which I've often reiterated but there is grief there too. It's hard to see someone you love struggle with addiction (or anything, right?) I want to "fix it," of course, but that's not my part. 

There is a below-the-line piece to work on though. The piece about how I should have done something differently, better, or "right."  That is our perennial struggle as parents. We will not get it all perfect or even right. And the things we thought we got right will also be some of the things we get "wrong." We're human, after all, and even though there are lots of books, THE MANUAL isn't a real thing. We can't go by the book because we're humans raising humans . . . you know, free will and all that. We can try to be "book parents" but there is no real book. 

What I'm trying to say is, there is something beautiful in tears. A child may be struggling in a certain way and another in that, and mom is losing her memory and we are all aging. . . etcetera, etcetera, etcetera . . . all these tears are signs of an opening heart. 

• One of my students got of the car and her dad said, "I want to thank you because this morning Machi said, 'I love to come to school because Mrs. Tischler loves me."
• There was a partial solar eclipse -- so rare and beautiful and other worldly -- and I am here standing on the earth as a witness.
• I have had some amazing conversations lately with "old" friends and new ones -- deep connections -- such a rare and beautiful gift. 
  
  
• I read an old poem by Mary Oliver, "The Summer Day," and it changed my life in a heartbeat. 
• My "grand-dogger" meets me at the door with seriously unbridled joy at the end of the day. I don't believe animals don't feel emotion. 

. . . and the waters flow!

 

I hear myself joking that COVID 19 turned me into "an old softie" but I'm going to stop that here and now. That's patently false. During those months at home with my youngest 2 kids and sometimes my oldest, I had time to reflect on what truly matters to me.  

Many years ago, I had the privilege of traveling several times for a few weeks to Costa Rica and staying among local people. There is a saying in Costa Rica, "pura vida," which means, basically, to live a simple or pure and clean life; an unencumbered life. This is what I aspire to now!

After CV-19, I noticed a softening in the world around me. I saw it at school, too. Even though for the first year, we had to stay in our classrooms a lot, the staff seemed more caring and connected. I see it in stores and restaurants, even on the news. I don't think it's just me. As a world community, we've become aware: life is fleeting. 

Over the last few years, perhaps I'd gotten hunkered down with a very busy household and a pretty demanding job. I'd let myself get overwhelmed, at times, and forgotten to soften my eyes and take in the beauty around me. I hadn't let myself  turn up the tunes and sing out loud or dance like Elaine or run like Phoebe. 

Those days are over. The time is short. Look out, world!