Last week, one of my receptionists posted about comments her elementary school aged son made to the effect of, “Why do people exist?” and “What if we aren’t actually real?” Good questions, kid. Good questions.
I have no idea why people exist. They’re often disappointing, especially recently. Sometimes, I’ll read that someone is so impressed with the way that humanity has been there for one another during all of the uncertainty we’ve been dealing with in the last two years. Maybe it’s because I’m just not an optimist, or maybe it’s because of where I live, but that’s just not what I see every day. At least it isn’t the bulk of the actions I see every day. Just try and drive down the street from my house, and the worse of humanity is all on display all the time.
Sometimes, because of the things I see and hear so often, I hope that we aren’t real, that the world we’re living in right now isn’t actually real. If it isn’t real though, I can’t help but ask myself, “Why would anyone make this up? Wouldn’t someone, anyone, choose to create a better make-believe story if this isn’t actually happening right now?”
On the other hand, I feel bad complaining too much. I don’t, in the grand scheme of things, have anything to complain about. I know I’ve said as much before. There are not, in fact, bombs currently flying over my head (or any of my relatives’ heads either). I have not lost any family or friends to COVID in the last two years. I am, overall, a healthy person. The communication within my workplace is atrocious, but other than that, I have it pretty good there. I enjoy my coworkers. I like the fundamentals of my job, and the benefit to my new schedule is an increased number of procedure days, which makes me happy. I have a nice house (albeit, I wish I could pick it up and move to somewhere with many fewer people). My student loans, historically a big stressor in my life, will be gone (and I’ll be debt-free) by the end of the year. Between Justin and myself, we have no reason to worry that we can’t buy gas or groceries (although the current status of inflation is not something I love or want to stick around long-term). I have Justin. We have our animals, who are all nice, if naughty. I am eternally grateful for all of the above good things in my life.
It doesn’t make the fact that life isn’t quite as it was a little over two years ago easier to accept. Today, Justin couldn’t find a cardboard box to store Magic cards in at a comic book shop. The owner of the store explained to him that because of the supply chain, it’s not worth him ordering and stocking any at this time because they should cost $1-2, but he’d have to sell them for $15 because of what he’d pay for them. It’s a cardboard box! Trying to plan a trip gives me anxiety because I feel like so much has been thrown at us recently that I don’t know what restrictions might end up in place, who might get sick, will I be stranded somewhere if I book a flight, can I find a hotel (or other accommodation) with vacancy for the dates I need?
People are finding their way back to previously enjoyed, “normal” activities, but I can feel hesitancy from some, including myself. My sympathetic nervous system is still on edge, and my brain is too indecisive. I’m trying to make plans and move forward, but it’s hard. Some days, I just feel like I keep losing time feeling stuck in confusion.
Easter is coming up. We hope to see Justin’s brothers and their families. His mom won’t be around this year. My mom plans to have dinner. We’re edging back to how we used to celebrate, but it’s not quite there. I’ll be traveling to visit a friend for a long weekend soon, and a couple of weeks after that, we have some time booked in a cabin nearby. To start off summer, I’ll be watching my sister’s dogs while she takes a much-needed vacation/attends a couple of weddings. I took off a couple of weeks later in the year, but we have to finalize plans for the time still. I’m still trying to make decisions about continuing education for this year and where to go for that. It’s something though. Baby steps to living life. (I felt like I was doing a good job of it for a while there last year, but then came Omicron followed by the Russia-Ukraine situation to make me question the safety and intelligence of making plans all over again.)
The phases of life can be so strange. People, animals, jobs, places, feelings… any of these things can come and go. I’m not sure how to describe where I am now, honestly. I guess you could say that it’s a transition period coming out of the pandemic that has made so many people question various aspects of our lives. This date, April 2nd, is one that tends to leave me lost in thought. This particular April 2nd is twenty years since my dad died. I have always said that there was a “before” and an “after” 4/2/2002. Since then, there have been other significant dates along the way, but that one is one of the most defining in my life because it meant such big, abrupt changes in my day-to-day life and within my family.
I have plenty of thoughts and feelings about my dad and his death. I don’t necessarily want to put all of them out there right now. I got together with my mom and siblings earlier today to go for a walk. Seanan wanted to get everyone together because of the anniversary. Cait, Brian and I all agreed that we didn’t want to talk about the anniversary or specifically our dad today, but Brian made the point that we all should try to see one another more often. None of us could argue with that. In the end, all I really wanted to say today is that life is short, sometimes shorter than you think it’ll be. We should remember to be thankful for the living beings (two and four-legged) and places that we love and the time that we have to enjoy those things. Yes, I think it was understandable and right that we all took a pause while navigating the pandemic. No, it isn’t behind us yet, but I hope that we’re past the worst of it and can start to remember how to live a little because not a single day is guaranteed, not for any of us.
“And it’s our lives
It’s hard to remember, it’s hard to remember
We’re alive for the first time
It’s hard to remember, it’s hard to remember
We’re alive for the last time
It’s hard to remember, it’s hard to remember
To live before you die
It’s hard to remember, it’s hard to remember
That our lives are such a short time
It’s hard to remember, it’s hard to remember
When it takes such a long time
It’s hard to remember, it’s hard to remember”
~From the song, “Lives,” by Modest Mouse
