I cite an instance in the office the other day: I am a lucky individual allotted the privilege of being able to listen to my iPod while working on whatever project needs my immediate attention (a blessing indeed... music ne'er has sounded as sweet...), and seeing as how it is the holiday season, I have been listening most prevalently to music geared toward just such an season. Now, being at work has always had a sobering affect on me... to my detriment, no doubt, but also to my benefit in that it focuses my thoughts and is almost a form of meditation in the sense that my mind generally takes an auto-pilot format. Because of this, I have been listening ever so much more closely to this collection of carols and songs that I have known for many years, and, although some are just as cookie-cutter as ever (no pun intended), some, in all honesty, have taken on a much more poignant meaning in my life.
I was listening to the song "I'll Be Home For Christmas" as sung by Victor Garber on the old 2001 Broadway Cares Christmas Album, and I found myself pondering the lyrics as I heard them (the man sang the song slow enough, I had time to write a thesis right then and there... har har...). The song made me think of my mother and father - two of the most important (if not the most important) people in my life - and how their situations have changed since I first knew them as a young boy; my father's family lived in Austin, and we would more than likely spend the Holidays with them, seeing as how my mother's family (her mother, father, and numerous relatives) lived in Michigan. But the song made me realize it wasn't always that way; my mom used to come home from college or wherever and spend Christmas at home where she grew up, and my dad no doubt did the same. But nowadays things are a little different...
Both of my grandfathers have since passed away, one due to brain and age complications and the other the victim of advanced age coupled with devastating cancer; both of my grandmothers are decidedly different people than when I first knew either of them, as one has had a stroke and is living in an assisted living home in Austin and the other has since moved away from Michigan, leaving her house of many, many years behind for an assisted living home, near my mom's brother, where they are capable of helping her through her advanced dementia. All of this seems like it only just happened, really; this is all so different than any memory I have made since I first began to recall any particular holiday season... and I suppose that made me query just how much the season has changed for my parents.
My father will never be able to go home again... at least not in the sense of Christmases long-past; his father is long-dead and his mother is struggling to hold on to the person that she once was (and doing a damn-fine job if I do say so myself... even without total mobility of the entire right half of her body, she is still an artist, a writer, and a fervent reader); my mother's father is also gone, only more recently so, and her mother is not doing as well holding onto who she really is, living every moment as if she'd never lived before... but still one of the greatest personalities that any one has ever known. And, while pondering on all of this, Garber sang the final line of the song... "I'll be home for Christmas if only in my dreams"...
And that's when it all hit me, and I began to cry.
I cried for my mother and father who were being forced to move away from their pasts, or at least the expectancy of a reasonable facsimile of the past... and I couldn't stop. Lucky for me, no one really saw, as my "office" is out of the way... but had they sat next to me, I'm sure they would have noticed. But I could not help the tears; I suddenly felt compelled to do something - anything - to make Christmases more worthy of past holidays that my mother and father might have experienced, and part of me feels that will be nought but an exercise in futility for the rest of my days... the past is gone; we can never reclaim it.
But as so many have said (including my wonderful Buddhist role model, Brad Warner), the present is all you really need worry about, as that is what is more than likely to affect you at this very moment. You can't touch the past or the future, but you cannot help but touch, taste, see, roll around in the present. And so therein, I think, lies the lesson I must learn from this, my brief fall from ignorance; my parents are my present, and I will cherish that and make merriment there-with. And my brother, and the family I still have scattered about the place... and far be it from me to rob any of them of the potential for a memory or dream that will most assuredly one day be part of their present moment...
... so there.
Yes, I cried. I know, I know... gosh, you're such a cry baby... but it's the truth. I tear up a lot these days... I think it's because growing up is like the phantasm that was the Wizard of Oz... "Great and Terrible"; great in that it's a chance to change, but terrible for the exact same reason.
Bah! The paradoxes that are life will be the death of me yet! (har har...)
FIN!