First of all, just to get it out of the way, we're on day 6 and still counting. The poor boy got called back to work last night and didn't get home until 11 p.m. Then he had to be at work at 5 a.m.
He's been deployed for months and months at a time before, so I'm used to doing without. But this feels different. This feels like rejection. Do you know what I mean? It isn't really, and he said some sweet things last night, but it still doesn't feel good.
I've found that my brain, without the distraction of hot monkey love has turned to loftier thoughts.
First of all, is there something weird going on with the stars, or what? Doesn't it feel like there is a lot of angst going around? I've been feeling it myself, in my own internal way. The gate guard flirts with me, and I'm embarrassed. I pick my best friend up from the airport (Yay! CB's home.) and I feel like a dork. I'm just not comfortable in my own skin right now. Or maybe it's that I'm not comfortable in my own soul right now.
Two days ago I read this post by Patrick. It really got me thinking. And then my husband was telling me about a conversation he had with a friend. His friend has just gotten serious with a woman, and my guy was telling him about our past. And that made me think even more.
Over and over again I hear mothers wishing that their kids could stay babies forever. I also know women who are in mourning for the early days of their relationships.
Conversely, I hear mothers wishing that their kids were older, out of the house, and out of their hair. I also know women who are just laying in wait for the day when their relationship will be easy.
If there is something I'm very good at, it is appreciating the present. I live in the moment. Every moment. Breath by breath. My husband is going to war for who-knows-how-long? Fine. I'll live through each breath and take every moment for what it is worth.
But at the same time, I have a real appreciation for my past. I regret nothing. I can see how every part of my past contributes to my present. I fondly remember the days of my courtship, but I don't idealize them. I can look back and rejoice in the kids' babyhood. But I don't want that time back. I can even look back on the dark times and see them as stepping stones to now and the future.
And the future? I look forward to it. I look forward to each stage of the kids development. I look forward to being a grandparent. I really look forward to spending my days on the beaches of Cape Cod with my bald, wrinkly husband. I have goals. I have timelines. I take real joy in my shared future.
But I'm not wishing away my present. I'm still breathing in and breathing out, and loving every breath for the life it provides.
Does this mean that I've found the meaning of life, as Patrick suggested? I've never even thought about that before. Does life even have a greater meaning? Is it the same for everyone? Is there a great cosmic meaning of life that some are enlightened enough to see and others can only imagine?
Or is "the meaning of life" really just the meaning of my life? Or yours? Or his? Or theirs?
So I've been thinking and thinking. Have I found the meaning of life?
Yes. I have.
Can I explain it to you? Probably not. But here's the rub. I think, maybe, we all know the meaning of life. Maybe we just don't want to know that we know it. You know?
Wow. How existential of me. See what happens when I don't get enough sex.