Perspective

These perimenopausal days of mine somehow feel like pivotal times in a way that is different from the ground shift that came with widowhood.

Mostly I find myself with a major change in perspective.

Raising teens just as the generation before mine enters the twilight years has been a contributing factor. (Gen X meets Sandwich Gen.)

Another would be dealing with the dueling complexities of the mental health issues of one child vs. that of the entire household. (Basically, everyone is in therapy.)

Add to that autism.

And chronic illness.

And, and, and.

When one is constantly left holding the bag and having to make decisions for others (because you are the parent or the so-called head of household) or, at the very least, with the welfare of others in mind, the world looks like a very different place.

In fact, you very quickly see that your life is not really about you. Not in this season, anyway.

When you spend a glorious week-and-a-half on the island of Hawaii, and the island beckons for you to stay… and your best friend jokingly offers to sell you their house on the island… and a stranger with whom you discover an easy kinship offers you a (theoretical) job… and your children beg you to consider all these things…

You acknowledge them all with grace and say, “Not now.”

“Not now” somehow looks different through this lens.

Because this season is not about you and your wants.

It is about the good of the entire extended family unit, and not just our immediate household.

We are in a time of transition. My kids will both be adults in half a decade.  In the span of my life, this is nothing.

As for my parents and Mike’s, well…. I stay close. At the very least, I stay in town.

It is good to be needed, even if it means I sometimes make sacrifices. None of what is happening now is long-term in nature.  When I think of this, the bitter pill I sometimes imagine swallowing becomes neutralized.

I suppose my point is this: This is a hard, hard season. Being without my partner and co-parent (with whom I once felt invincible) takes the “difficulty level” up a few notches.

Emotions run high these days. There are losses, frustrations, disappointments. And yes, there are legitimate WTF moments when I think to myself, “What the heck do I do???”

For sure, we have hormones to blame on all fronts, although life has just been a series of tough choices and adjustments, too.

But also? I can still call this a good season. A time like no other.

If we had a season of starting a family and learning what it was to be parents, I am now living in a season of flux. Of transition.

And in it, I am a help. I am protector. Caregiver. Decision-maker. Pathfinder. Advocate.

I was all these things, too, before. But somehow, I feel wiser now. And less selfish.

I truly feel like I am “It”. Because I am.

Would you know? It is a relief to me that I get to put my feelings aside. Because this season is not about my feelings.

Or more accurately, this is not a season about me. It is about transition for every single one of us.

All told, my hormonal changes feel small and more manageable compared to everyone else’s individual state of flux.

So no, I cannot make this season about me.

And for me, this is working. Because I can set aside my grief and be of service.  I can keep my grief in perspective.

In fact, my grief has prepared me for this season because it has taught me to see the temporary nature of our seasons.

There is much to say about our seasons: our young adulthood filled with brash bravado, our ambitious professional beginnings, our nesting days. We think of our seasons mostly in good terms.

We often do not like to think about our seasons of hardship.

Or we reframe them in retrospect so that they become easier to live with. We say, “I learned this lesson then.” Or, “This made me stronger.”

Somehow, my grief has taught me that it is within our power to change our perspective while we are in these difficult seasons. That we don’t have to wait until “after” to make peace with the hardship.

So here I am, reframing this season of hardship for myself:

This season is about love. It is about patience. It is about my certainty that all will be well, no matter the current struggle.

Because God.

I have no insight for what the future holds, but does it make sense that I am okay with that?

Truly, my heart is at peace.