I got news yesterday that has really shaken me badly. It turns out that my biological father has frontal lobe dementia. This is apparently a devastating condition. And likely hereditary. I fear, or maybe know, that it is callous, but I think much of the grief I am feeling is fear for myself. Trumped only for fear for my children. I am not someone who believes in a destiny and to think that I have one, one fraught with disability and pain inflicted on those I love, it is incomprehensible. I may not be as wise as I generously allow myself to believe, but at a minimum I can almost always come up with a label, and explanation, for how I am feeling. For (the deeper) why I am feeling this way. And how I can rise above it. I might not do all the right things with this information, but for me, a perception of understanding is a great comfort. I am without this comfort at the moment.
As with any news or happenings with my biological father, a man who I have not had a significant relationship with, having not even met him until I was twenty years old, I feel so many different things. He is a person who is suffering, and he has a family who is suffering, and I feel love and sympathy for that. I feel the confusing detachment and pangs of wanting to feel more for him. I no longer feel any loss for the absence we have had in each others' lives. Or perhaps I do. But it's not been a preoccupation of mine for a very long time.
But I think I know what I need to do right now. Or at least I think I have to decide to do something. There are steps to be taken to figure out what the risk is to me. I can't even go there when it comes to my kids. So I have to table that, otherwise I will be crushed by the agony. I'm going to take those steps. I do think I need to purge a bit. I need to get my head on straight, cut out the distractions, and take care of myself and my family the best I can. If the news is bad, I'll need the reserves to come to terms with that reality. If the news is good, I hope I can carry some of these lessons with me - some of which I can almost catch a glimpse of when I take a deep breath and the sun hits me just right. And I think I need to create space for myself not to directly contemplate this man without whom I would not be, yet whose path so seldom crossed with my own; but to give myself some fertile ground to make peace and to send out true compassion for him and for the many around him who are hurting.
Every rough patch in my life has graced me with greater
resonance with the world and people around me. And this time may be a
hiccup or a game changer. That remains to be seen. Either way, right now, I've got to focus on breathing. So I must head back to my meditation cushion and to the yoga mat, give myself permission to reach out for support and permission to guard my personal resources of energy and optimism for a little while, try and cut out the white noise from constant media, and be sure to find silence when I can. Some of these are so much easier than others. I'm not going away. But I am stepping back. All my love to all of you, and my eternal gratitude for all the love that gets showered on me.
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