I am a dragon
I read this passage today on "dragon parents" -- those with terminally ill babies (and who are a far cry from "tiger moms" pushing their kids to succeed), and I recognized something of myself in the description, even though I'm not a parent. It's the confronting of death and the permanence of impermanence that I'm all too familiar with:
"Dragons are scary. Our grief is primal and unwieldy and it embarrasses people. Talking about end-of-life care decisions for our babies to a bunch of parents with typically developing kids is tantamount to breathing fire at a dinner party or on the playground. Nobody wants to see what we see so clearly. Nobody wants to know the truth about their children, about themselves: that none of it is forever."
--Emily Rapp, "The Still Point of the Turning World"
In recent conversations with friends, I am reminded again of how lucky some people are. Not that anyone is immune from tragedy. Far from it. But some people get a taste -- sometimes a large helping -- earlier on than others. I'd like to think that for those of us who experience tough times, that we really do get stronger, even in the parts of us that get broken. Sometimes it's all we can do to hold on, but that's enough, really. Just to hold on can be enough. I try to tell myself that when I look at my life and wonder if I'll ever get it together. Things are falling apart.
And yet the world goes on. I envy those whose parents are still whole, who have partners in life, who have offspring to direct their days and give their lives purpose. But I am getting better at appreciating what I do have, and for living in the moment and finding gratitude even in the face of tragedy. Better at it, but not perfect.
As the specter of my mother's mortality hangs over my family, I feel a familiar pull these days, towards those who are struggling. Just as I wanted to be around other young widows in the early years after Steven's death, I feel more of a kinship with people who have suffered than those who have not.
(In an aside, I think of Actor Guy and understand better why we were never meant to be. He's been coddled his entire life and has the benefit of a very wealthy family to act as a safety net for his life choices. Any hardship he's experienced has been thru secondhand observation or self-inflicted. No wonder he folded like a house of cards. Like my dad observed, "He has no guts." If I ever end up with someone, I think it's going to have to be with someone who is super strong.)
"Dragons are scary. Our grief is primal and unwieldy and it embarrasses people. Talking about end-of-life care decisions for our babies to a bunch of parents with typically developing kids is tantamount to breathing fire at a dinner party or on the playground. Nobody wants to see what we see so clearly. Nobody wants to know the truth about their children, about themselves: that none of it is forever."
--Emily Rapp, "The Still Point of the Turning World"
In recent conversations with friends, I am reminded again of how lucky some people are. Not that anyone is immune from tragedy. Far from it. But some people get a taste -- sometimes a large helping -- earlier on than others. I'd like to think that for those of us who experience tough times, that we really do get stronger, even in the parts of us that get broken. Sometimes it's all we can do to hold on, but that's enough, really. Just to hold on can be enough. I try to tell myself that when I look at my life and wonder if I'll ever get it together. Things are falling apart.
And yet the world goes on. I envy those whose parents are still whole, who have partners in life, who have offspring to direct their days and give their lives purpose. But I am getting better at appreciating what I do have, and for living in the moment and finding gratitude even in the face of tragedy. Better at it, but not perfect.
As the specter of my mother's mortality hangs over my family, I feel a familiar pull these days, towards those who are struggling. Just as I wanted to be around other young widows in the early years after Steven's death, I feel more of a kinship with people who have suffered than those who have not.
(In an aside, I think of Actor Guy and understand better why we were never meant to be. He's been coddled his entire life and has the benefit of a very wealthy family to act as a safety net for his life choices. Any hardship he's experienced has been thru secondhand observation or self-inflicted. No wonder he folded like a house of cards. Like my dad observed, "He has no guts." If I ever end up with someone, I think it's going to have to be with someone who is super strong.)