Missing Identity
My Grandpa is turning 94 this week. My family and I celebrated his birthday this weekend. We had a lovely dinner with a delicious pie for dessert. (Ok, so maybe mentioning the pie is unnecessary. But that pie was amazingly delicious. I couldn't not mention the pie.) As the meal was drawing to a close my aunt asked my grandpa if he had any advice for the rest of us from the vantage point of 94. All he said was "marry a nurse."
Now, this may be practical advice. Perhaps my grandmother's nursing skills did indeed play a large part in keeping her family healthy. Yet I wonder what else there could be. I know bits and pieces of my grandpa's past, and it sounds to me as though he has lead a very exciting and interesting life. So I'm convinced there has to be something more than just who to marry.
Then I wonder what I'll say if I'm lucky enough to spend my 94th birthday among loved ones. What wisdom will I be able to impart to the next generation? What stories will I have to tell?
Lately, I've been wallowing in a self-made rut of self-pity. Well, maybe not self-pity per sey, but definitely a self-made rut of.... blahness, at the very least. Now, this is not me trying to make excuses or deny this fact, but it was brought directly to my attention this evening. Not rudely, but lovingly. Although it was tough to hear, I really needed it.
I suppose what I'm trying to get out is that if I want to have good advice to give and awesome stories to tell I need to get out and go make them happen. Right now nothing's happening. I think my mom hit it on the head tonight when she made the observation that it's like I have no identity at the moment. I moved onto a super huge campus where no one really knows me and I have a bazillion and one options of what to do with my time and what have I done? Not a whole lot, that's for sure. Basically, I'm lame. Not to mention disappointing. I feel as though I've let quite a few people down. That's not the identity I want.
I don't want lots of stories of how I sat alone in my dorm room all the time. I don't want stories of how I couldn't decide what to do so instead I did nothing. I don't want my advice to be "don't be like me." Instead I want stories of how I travelled to this place, or how I made it to the top of that event. I want to take advantage of all the opportunities avaliable. In short, I need to grow up.
Growing is painful, but I'm banking on the fact that it'll all be worth it in the end. Who knows, maybe I'll turn out to be a pretty cool 94 year old afterall.
Now, this may be practical advice. Perhaps my grandmother's nursing skills did indeed play a large part in keeping her family healthy. Yet I wonder what else there could be. I know bits and pieces of my grandpa's past, and it sounds to me as though he has lead a very exciting and interesting life. So I'm convinced there has to be something more than just who to marry.
Then I wonder what I'll say if I'm lucky enough to spend my 94th birthday among loved ones. What wisdom will I be able to impart to the next generation? What stories will I have to tell?
Lately, I've been wallowing in a self-made rut of self-pity. Well, maybe not self-pity per sey, but definitely a self-made rut of.... blahness, at the very least. Now, this is not me trying to make excuses or deny this fact, but it was brought directly to my attention this evening. Not rudely, but lovingly. Although it was tough to hear, I really needed it.
I suppose what I'm trying to get out is that if I want to have good advice to give and awesome stories to tell I need to get out and go make them happen. Right now nothing's happening. I think my mom hit it on the head tonight when she made the observation that it's like I have no identity at the moment. I moved onto a super huge campus where no one really knows me and I have a bazillion and one options of what to do with my time and what have I done? Not a whole lot, that's for sure. Basically, I'm lame. Not to mention disappointing. I feel as though I've let quite a few people down. That's not the identity I want.
I don't want lots of stories of how I sat alone in my dorm room all the time. I don't want stories of how I couldn't decide what to do so instead I did nothing. I don't want my advice to be "don't be like me." Instead I want stories of how I travelled to this place, or how I made it to the top of that event. I want to take advantage of all the opportunities avaliable. In short, I need to grow up.
Growing is painful, but I'm banking on the fact that it'll all be worth it in the end. Who knows, maybe I'll turn out to be a pretty cool 94 year old afterall.