I’ll be visiting my parents this weekend for the first time since April.Except it truly doesn’t seem that long ago to me. It feels like I was just down there.
My mom really wants me to visit more often. She keeps saying how nice it was when I was visiting every other month last year. But I can’t do that. I did it, last year, because of her cancer. Because I wanted to be with her and help her. And because I was terrified and just wanted to cling to her…
All my life, my parents have been my focus. Their story, their narrative has been the one that defined my world. And I’m coming to understand how much of that narrative is fictional. Also, that I really need to be living my own life. Creating my own narrative. Really, you ought to be the main character in your life. Not just a spear carrier.