I’m reading a book about a woman who had big dreams but had to give them up.
She’s stuck in the same place she was born and bred, while all she wanted was to fly far far away. Glamorous places, away from the norm. She is also the main carer for her mum, suffering from dementia. It’s not an easy life.
Yes, not an easy life, and I could understand her frustrations, but as I read it, began to wish I could swap places with her. Live in the place I grew up in, be near my parents, be there to look after my dad, to have been there for my mum.. I wish I could.. How nice it would have been. Of course I know all about the grass being greener on the other side and stuff, but I can’t help feel a tiny bit jealous when I hear my colleagues talk about weekend plans with their families, family weekends, etc. For me to have one of those, I need to plan an international trip!
But that’s life, isn’t it? We get what we get. It feels so unfair at times, while at other times, you feel grateful, knowing that you have been blessed.
Today when my Dad has gotten in that flight back to India, I’m afraid, I’m feeling more than a bit rubbish. All I want is to hold him tight, never let go, be around him.. 2 months of having him here, of having his calm reassuring presence, being there when he needed me, knowing that all the pieces of my heart are together, that comfort, even in the middle of mourning for my mum… I’m missing all that.
All I can hope for, is for his strength and positivity to come through, to help him combat the loneliness that is waiting for him. Hope is all I have…and that hope I will cling on to….