What do you do when something, some phase or chapter in your life, has come to its end? You feel it, you know it, and yet you don’t know how to react. What are you supposed to do, how are you supposed to behave?
“It’s terrible the way one loses things as one grows older.”
I used to have goosebumps every time I came across this quote from Simone De Beauvoir. The idea of losing everything even at a very old age scared me to death. Unfortunately I didn’t wait for old age to realize a bit too soon that everything in this world, in life comes to an end. One by one, step by step things and people disappear from your life. It’s as if your life was a novel and with every chapter that closes a stage in your life passes, except you unlike the writer, don’t have control over your life story.
Relationships, friendships, love, childhood, parenthood, adolescence, your job, your dreams and eventually your life. Somewhere along the road, sometime during my journey to the future I realized I have lost so much in order to just live.
When I was a little girl, I wanted to become a teacher so badly. Every day after school I used to come home, wear my mom’s high heel shoes, arrange my dolls on my bed and pretend I was their teacher. My teachers were the world to me. I studied and made my dreams come true. And I taught for almost a quarter of a century. And now I want that chapter in my life closed. Teaching for me is associated with a happy life. A life full of hopes and ideas and promises.
It is not because I am not in the prime of my life anymore. I have had my share of the bad, the good, the beautiful, the ugly, the sad, the happy before I even came to Montreal. Before I even lost my husband. But with his loss I feel like I have lost the touch. I feel that I am living in a constant battle of ideas, dreams, sorrows, disappointments, promises, heartaches, pain and sometimes even bliss.
But the one thing that I find hard to do now is come to terms with my loss and my life. I am in a constant battle with my emotions. The knowledge that my life will never be the same again, not in the same way ever, is what makes it so bitter. And yet having my kids around makes it sometimes even sweet.
Joanna Trollope writes:
“Being alone was not in itself undesirable: it was the circumstances of aloneness that made it either a friend or a foe.”