(no subject)
Today, while walking past the hospital towards school, I crossed paths with two parents and their adolescent son. We didn't exchange words, or really even glances. The only remarkable thing about them was that their son, probably 16 or 17, was in a wheelchair with what looked like severe muscular dystrophy.
I realized, as they walked past, that they of course they had no choice but to take care of him. I suppose they could dump him in an institution and forget about him, but I believe they were consciously choosing-- every day-- to keep him and love him.
Concomitant with that realization it occurred to me that their love for him was real. It was real in that it was wholly unconditional. It had to be. The thing is, such a form of love couldn't be making them happy. Their son would never grow up and function as a normal person. I'm sure there is happiness buried in their relationship somewhere, but it is entirely different than the pseudo-happiness most people feel through 'love.'
The point is, I think I'm coming to grips with the fact that unconditional love exists, and it is called misery. We all put conditions on our love to protect ourselves from that misery, but is that truly love? What is love without misery?
Maybe I'm being unfair. Plenty of people are in loving relationships unconditionally and they are not miserable, but it's just a mere fact of circumstance. So maybe calling unconditional love 'misery' is wrong. Maybe, instead, it's neither happiness nor misery. Maybe it's just a biological trap.
But I almost burst into tears while walking past them because I wanted to tell them everything will be okay, even though I know it really won't be. I think I might want to go into pediatrics, I don't know. Maybe I could unconditionally love someone that way-- if they don't have many tomorrows, I could try to help them and make them happy at the very least. When it comes down to it, we're all going to die anyway.
What is so hard about just being happy?
I realized, as they walked past, that they of course they had no choice but to take care of him. I suppose they could dump him in an institution and forget about him, but I believe they were consciously choosing-- every day-- to keep him and love him.
Concomitant with that realization it occurred to me that their love for him was real. It was real in that it was wholly unconditional. It had to be. The thing is, such a form of love couldn't be making them happy. Their son would never grow up and function as a normal person. I'm sure there is happiness buried in their relationship somewhere, but it is entirely different than the pseudo-happiness most people feel through 'love.'
The point is, I think I'm coming to grips with the fact that unconditional love exists, and it is called misery. We all put conditions on our love to protect ourselves from that misery, but is that truly love? What is love without misery?
Maybe I'm being unfair. Plenty of people are in loving relationships unconditionally and they are not miserable, but it's just a mere fact of circumstance. So maybe calling unconditional love 'misery' is wrong. Maybe, instead, it's neither happiness nor misery. Maybe it's just a biological trap.
But I almost burst into tears while walking past them because I wanted to tell them everything will be okay, even though I know it really won't be. I think I might want to go into pediatrics, I don't know. Maybe I could unconditionally love someone that way-- if they don't have many tomorrows, I could try to help them and make them happy at the very least. When it comes down to it, we're all going to die anyway.
What is so hard about just being happy?