The other day, I cried on the way to work. Though the arrival of tears was discouraging, I quickly realized that it has actually been quite some time since I have experienced this. Perspective is good — sometimes.
Later the same day, I cried again. I was reading a message from a long-lost friend whose father died when we were very young. It’s amazing how quickly the events from that far back come tumbling back into my memory. Our messages went back and forth a few times, and I learned that her mother suffered a horrible depression. I wasn’t surprised to read this, but I was surprised to hear that she never recovered from it. My friend likened the experience to losing her Mom, as well as her Dad. She cautioned me to keep living. Perspective, as I’ve said, can be good — sometimes.
I wonder how others may see me. What was my BoBo’s perspective when I quit running in a desperate attempt to reign him in? That might have been mistaken as letting myself die a little. Then there are those who have noticed the 10 pounds of weight that I put on since my husband’s death. What is their perspective? You may say that it doesn’t matter, but I’m not so sure. It all depends on who these people are. It might be you who views me as dying. Will you share your perspective with others long after I have truly passed?
I fear that I have reawakened my friend’s pain after all of these years. I am sorry for having done that. The topic came up for other reasons. Now that several days have passed my perspective has changed a bit, but I admit that I am still digesting the conversation. I am trying to understand it better for my own sake.