What's On My Mind

In the past few years, I have had to deal with quite a few changes in my family. I have lost people and gained people. Others have changed their roles in my life to varying degrees. While this is something that happens all the time, I have faced a lion's share of changes recently (read: in the last 5 years).

Ever since I was small, I have had people commenting on my maturity. "You're awfully grown up for your age." "What a mature outlook on life." "She sure seems to have things together for someone from her generation." As the oldest of 4 kids, I took on a lot of early responsibility. I grew up seeing myself as a peacekeeper, a problem solver, and a fixer of all things broken. Perhaps because I willingly took on these jobs (and became relatively successful at them) they soon became the expectation.

Most of the time, I revel in these expectations. I find great satisfaction in helping others untangle and troubleshoot. I enjoy the feeling of being "in the know" when my family members share their secrets and problems. However, I have a weakness. An achilles heel, as it were. I don't handle change well. I like to see it coming, planning and preparing for the transition far in advance. I like to know exactly where I am going, and if I'm not sure of the future I travel as though I am traversing a strange room in the dark: I move very slowly.

Consequently, when this plethora of changes occured throughout my familial spheres, I struggled. Many of the changes were abrupt, leaving me limited time to come to terms with my new reality. Most of them were ultimately out of my control so I stumbled through the changes, tripping over little things that wouldn't have bothered me much in the full light of experience and expertise. I made mistakes. Worse, I began to shy away from the changes all together, as though ignoring them could make them go away.

Over time, I learned to navigate my new surroundings. Some changes, like the addition of a brother-in-law, were easy. It's hard not to like someone who is so wonderful to my dear sister and her children. He may not realize it (we don't see each other often), but he quickly earned a special place in my heart. Others, like the re-establishment of the earlier warm relationship with my Daddy, took longer. Slowly, we both found our way back to that comfortable place that hadn't been lost in the darkness after all. It had just been moved slightly. These and others are changes that I have become used to, changes that have ceased to be changes and moved into the realm of "what is".

There are areas which are still confusing to me. Places where it is easy to mis-step and become lost. For example, while I understand with my brain that my beloved grandma is no longer with us, I continue to pretend that it has just been awhile since I've called her and I will do it again some Sunday soon. I keep her phone number in my cell, just in case. The only day of the week on which I do not think of her is Sunday. The better to pretend I simply got too busy to call again.

The damage I did to my relationship with my brother, no matter how well-intentioned, has gone mostly unrepaired. I suspect we both know that although I am sorry for the rift between us, I would do exactly the same thing if I had the chance to go back. I continue to admire him like no other. And yet, somehow, I let days...weeks...months pile up while I think of the right way to tell him how worried and proud I am. I hold back the words, afraid to make things worse, unsure how to make them better.

And finally, my mother's husband. Despite being the mature, open-minded, peacekeeping one of the family, it has taken me the longest to accept him. Is it because I was so comfortable with him in the role of close family friend that I am reluctant to move him to a newer, more intimate position? Or is it because he so thoroughly replaced me as my mother's confidant and supporter? Could it be that, given the thousands of miles between us, I just haven't had enough "real" time to adjust? Or am I just surprising everyone and displaying the behaviors of a frightened child? I suspect that it is a little bit of everything rolled into one.

There you have it. I have a reputation for control and strength and solutions, but I continue to flounder in a sea of change. I can only hope that those family members with whom I have yet to reconnect - my brother, my step-father - understand the hesitation I feel. After all, who hasn't found themselves in a strange dark without a flashlight at one time or another? I can't say how long it will take me to baby-step my way back onto a familiar path. I can only promise that I will keep moving forward to the best of my ability.