Choosing where to land.
Normally, I would be sitting on my living room floor cuddling my two giant breed dogs at a time like this, or sitting in bed with my pen and journal… but this time, I decided to write a blog post.
This topic is very personal to me, because (for those who don’t know), my parents divorced when I was 6 years old, and that single event largely filtered the rest of my life through young adulthood.
To make a long story short, I always knew logically that my dad loved me, but it was difficult for me to feel loved by him. I always wondered how our relationship might be different (ahem, closer) if the divorce never happened.
When I told my dad that I (as a thirty-something year old) recently cried about the “lost relationship” I could have had with him if the divorce never happened, he lovingly took the opportunity to share his heart, and I’m so glad he did.
Never once did it occur to me, until this recent conversation with my dad, that our relationship could have actually been worse if my parents stayed married. In reality, the divorce caused my dad to be a better dad. He felt the gravity of grief and divorce, which in turn, caused him to decidedly spend more time with my sisters and I. He became more present with us; more intentional; more loving. I’d never thought of that possibility before, but it makes sense to me that the grass may not have been greener on the other side of my wondering, “What if… If only… I just wish things were different.”
After all the tears have been cried and all the conversations have been hashed out… eventually, we all must ask ourselves the same question:
Where will I land?
Will I land on my childhood experiences of sadness, loss, and over-generalized assumptions about who my parents are and why they made certain decisions?
Will I land on my teenage experiences of anger, confusion and wildly emotional expressions of love, companionship, or media-influenced ideas about the opposite sex?
Or…
Will I land on my present day experiences and welcome all the complexities and simplicities of life at the same time?
Will I allow room for joy and sadness to coexist within my childhood memories?
Will I make space for a new version of my dad and my relationship with him - one that doesn’t end with regrets, disappointments, or an overall sense of missing out on a love that is actually more accessible now than ever? Will I embrace the possibilities of a more redemptive story- one that includes a new version of me as well?
And what about you? What is a filter you’ve been dealing with? What continues to be a sad (blue) or angry (red) colored lens to your current experiences?
Rather than landing on emotions that leave you wondering, “What if… If only… I just wish things were different,” how can you land on more positive aspects of your experiences? How can you appreciate and believe the best has come from those experiences, even if they were mostly negative?
These questions are becoming easier for me to answer. I am so grateful my parents are still available and capable of helping me process my thoughts and emotions. Tomorrow’s not promised to any of us. I would much rather put the past where it belongs and move forward in my life knowing that every moment I currently have with my father is an enormous blessing and every memory I’ve had with him is as well.
Even painful memories carry unique blessings with them. It will always be my responsibility and privilege to look for meaning within a negative memory, to find at least one positive aspect of it, and choose to land there.
I hope you found this blog helpful. If so, feel free to share your thoughts with me.