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+ for a moment. All done I see. (And yes, I just erased pages of blank space.) Hmmm... an interesting point we're at here.
I've been thinking. And perhaps that's my problem, but I've been thinking nonetheless. I've spent the last several days at my parents home with, for most of the time, the rest of my family. I've been discovering, or perhaps simply paying attention how much family gatherings stress me out. Ironically, this gathering has had the least strife or conflict out of just about any in history. It's not that my family doesn't get a long as a whole, it's just that everybody has buttons that everybody else intentionally or not, knows how to push. This time there was really very little button pushing... leading me to believe the stress comes from elsewhere than simply conflict. I know for sure part of it is simply being around many more people than usual (I live alone) and not having my space. I'm just surprised how much stress it causes. I love my family. I genuinely enjoy being around them. They just drive me to the edge of panic.
And some more I've been thinking... Tomorrow I drive my truck home. My truck is a 1965 GMC 910 ½ ton. It's about a 3 ½ hour drive. The farthest I've ever driven this truck in one stretch is oh, about an hour or maybe 1 ½ hours. It's done very little for the last several years although I did drive it a fair bit when I was in high school. In fact, driving it again kind of takes me back to those high school days. Sometimes I really would like to shoot this stupid computer that is automatically making mistakes everytime I do something right. It's a function known as "Auto-Correct." I for one, don't believe it. Anyhow, I took the opportunity with my truck this afternoon to do a bit of a tour. I grew up on a farm, and we just sold it probably just over two years ago. Maybe three at the most. I don't remember. This afternoon I went on a drive past the old farm and all the land we were farming. I remembered exactly how much I haven't dealt with this yet. The summer we moved off of the farm, I didn't have time to grieve or otherwise deal with things. There was an auction sale to prepare for. I didn't have the luxury of time for anything else. Now, driving the old farm truck (which, by the way, my grandpa bought new and my dad bought from him) over fields it had been over so many times and over which it would almost certainly never again pass, and feeling like the disposessed farm boy who had lost his farm and some of his identity with it, I couldn't help but shedding a few tears. One thing I don't do well is let go.
I've got more reasons for saying that. Right now I'm just trying to put years of, well, life into a few short words. I never know how. Maybe it isn't so much that I don't know how to let go. It's just that I don't know how to let go and hold on at the same time. I think at this point my desire is mostly to simply let go, but the other I've promised. Not to say I don't want to... because honestly I do (not, would be letting go way more than I want to) but at the same time, perhaps I need to (simply let go that is). And why, oh why is it that, no matter what the reality behind the situation, some people just make me nervous? I don't get it. And now... now, now... the other half of the fun, trying take hold without grabbing; trying to approach without leaping. Trying, as it may be, to approach the brink of the long slippery slope as slowly and carefully as possible so as to keep the nearly impossible to control descent as, well, in control as possible. I think the essence of "control" means retaining the ability to adjust direction and also retaining the ability to abort all together should it be required. All this, and I don't even know if I want to go forward at all. Ironically, I'm happy about that part.
posted by Lauren @ Sunday, April 11, 2004
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