Gardens and Airports
Spent most of the day in the car. Dad was in Florida for most of the week at a science conference for work. My mother, aging, and not as able to take care of herself as before, needed my help for most of the week. She was sad and depressed most of the time he was gone. Today was the day that he came back.
I had to be at the shop at around 9:00 am, so we could leave at 10:00 am. I ate a terrible breakfast at McDonald's consuming way more calories than I should have. I am having a difficult time figuring out how to do the basics of caring for myself in an appropriate way. I eat too much, eat the wrong things, don't sleep well, and hardly ever exercise. Now, in my forties, I am paying the price for years of bad habits. I know I need to change, but I am way less certain about what those changes are. How should I go about fixing things when I don't know which path will take me to where I want to go. Life and its demands, does not seem to provide easy answers, and our society is very dis-inclined to provide any for free.
The drive up to the airport, about a two hour drive with traffic, was pleasant enough. Mom and I spoke about history. Family history, history of the nation, and the various calamities the world is afflicted by and, like me, does not seem to know what the cause of the trouble is, or how to go about fixing it. Mom was tired. Worn out by her week without Dad. She insisted on accompanying me on the journey, when I could have very well done it by myself. Initially, she intended to have lunch along the way, but as traffic increasingly became heavier, she decided it was better to have lunch at the airport.
Finally, we made it, and I made sure that we used the terminal's short term parking. The day was bright, warm, and gradually becoming hotter. The airport terminal was cool enough though. Mom was in her grandmother's wheelchair, so I wheeled her over to the big electronic screens announcing the arrivals and departures. Dad was scheduled to arrive in less than an hour. She was hungry for lunch, and most of the restaurants weren't not suitable to her. She didn't like "Beaches," nor the Bar & Grill on the other side of the vendor area. We settled on Panda Express, cheap Chinese style fast food. I wheeled Mom through the line while she made her choices, and then, for convenience sake, I paid for everything.
We were surrounded by people everywhere. It was interesting to see the mix of people passing by, young and old, tall and short, fat, skinny, rich, poor, in every human shape and color. Mostly, I was focused on Mom. I was having the kind of quality time with Mom that I am afraid of one day not having any more. Again, always at the back of my mind, I am conscious of being on a type of life precipice, slipping towards the edge of a disaster, I do not know how I will cope with when it comes. And yet, every human life will one day have to face a challenge like this. We cannot avoid the harsh realities of life. Perhaps, if more of us were committed to exercising more compassion towards one another, the harshness of life could be lessened. Giant societal changes aimed at softening the hard blows life aims at our hearts, chilling us, wounding us to our deep hurt. Homelessness, Lovelessness, Compassionlessness, Callousness: all of the ills that afflict a human soul.
One of the things I regret about being poor, having financially ruined my own life, is my inability to make my parents life easier. They have much and would not accept too much help from me in any case. They have helped me beyond any ability I could have ever have to repay it. I know this. Feel this deeply. It makes these moments where Mom has been so sad and depressed this week, tired out from her knees hurting, unable to walk for very long, difficult for me to endure when I think of what could have been had I more money to alleviate some of the trouble, or make them pass a bit more smoothly.
Lunch passed pleasantly, and it was time to wait for Dad. The TSA had taken over a significant portion of the airport since I had last been there, and the waiting areas had changed. As Dad had flown on Delta, we had to wait by the Delta ticket areas, in a make-shift waiting area by the windows, under the afternoon sun. I spoke with Mom a little about the people passing by, about how nice it will be to see Dad, and wondered with her about the various facets of his trip.
He texted her when he landed, so we moved up closer to the aisle where people were arriving from their planes. I lined Mom up in her wheelchair to a prominent corner waiting for the moment when he showed up. When he did minutes later, he was already on top of us. I did not see him pass through the doors, and only noticed him when he was feet from us. Mom and Dad hugged, and we made our way back across the airport, stopping at the restrooms first before leaving.
The traffic back was horrendous. Various bridge and freeway work had made travel through the city achingly slow. Most of our trip on the highway that skirted most of the city went along at ten miles an hour or so. There was not many moments where the speed got above that. Questioning Dad, I discovered that he had not actually had lunch on the plane like Mom had thought. Therefore, I took mom and dad through a detour to McDonalds for a hamburger. Dad also ordered a chocolate shake. I ordered an Iced Tea.
The rest of the trip home was mostly uneventful. There were various things that I had to do later that day. Deliver something to one sister, take another sister downtown to the city festival, close up the shop and turn off the water. But none of it was important enough to really remember or note.
Mom and Dad had determined to go to bed early. Dad to catch up on sleep from his jet lag, Mom to catch up sleep from her difficult sleep this past week without Dad. I left town again for an evening obligation to draw (a regular Friday habit to try and improve my life), perhaps my last drawing event for awhile. My mind was still pondering my struggles with trying to transform my life, and the impermanence of the future, and the finality of the past. The worst thing about human life, for me, for my thoughts right now, is how every mistake is firmly locked in the past. How things I did or failed to do are locked into an unchangeable past, and seem to me like streaks of india ink spilled onto a beautiful carpet. I have tried to scrub out the worst of it, but it refuses to fade or go away. I often pray to God to help me transform and become the person that I consciously want to be: to be more worthy, to be good, to be useful and help people make the world easier and better for those who struggle.I often fear that I will be locked into habits that will not change, impulses that will not fade and die away. After much thinking, I believe that the best I can do is have hope for the future, to persevere. Even if I do or did bad, I will only truly and finally fail if I give up and stop trying to make it better. Please God, help me become a true, worthy human being, and not just a physical creature afflicted by fears and failures, seeking only to satisfy my impulses and selfishness, but instead to become a spiritual being moved by heavenly-gifted virtues that serve to make the world better, to become a fragrant flower of divine attributes, lending my uniqueness, whatever that might be, to the flourishing garden of a better humanity.
I had to be at the shop at around 9:00 am, so we could leave at 10:00 am. I ate a terrible breakfast at McDonald's consuming way more calories than I should have. I am having a difficult time figuring out how to do the basics of caring for myself in an appropriate way. I eat too much, eat the wrong things, don't sleep well, and hardly ever exercise. Now, in my forties, I am paying the price for years of bad habits. I know I need to change, but I am way less certain about what those changes are. How should I go about fixing things when I don't know which path will take me to where I want to go. Life and its demands, does not seem to provide easy answers, and our society is very dis-inclined to provide any for free.
The drive up to the airport, about a two hour drive with traffic, was pleasant enough. Mom and I spoke about history. Family history, history of the nation, and the various calamities the world is afflicted by and, like me, does not seem to know what the cause of the trouble is, or how to go about fixing it. Mom was tired. Worn out by her week without Dad. She insisted on accompanying me on the journey, when I could have very well done it by myself. Initially, she intended to have lunch along the way, but as traffic increasingly became heavier, she decided it was better to have lunch at the airport.
Finally, we made it, and I made sure that we used the terminal's short term parking. The day was bright, warm, and gradually becoming hotter. The airport terminal was cool enough though. Mom was in her grandmother's wheelchair, so I wheeled her over to the big electronic screens announcing the arrivals and departures. Dad was scheduled to arrive in less than an hour. She was hungry for lunch, and most of the restaurants weren't not suitable to her. She didn't like "Beaches," nor the Bar & Grill on the other side of the vendor area. We settled on Panda Express, cheap Chinese style fast food. I wheeled Mom through the line while she made her choices, and then, for convenience sake, I paid for everything.
We were surrounded by people everywhere. It was interesting to see the mix of people passing by, young and old, tall and short, fat, skinny, rich, poor, in every human shape and color. Mostly, I was focused on Mom. I was having the kind of quality time with Mom that I am afraid of one day not having any more. Again, always at the back of my mind, I am conscious of being on a type of life precipice, slipping towards the edge of a disaster, I do not know how I will cope with when it comes. And yet, every human life will one day have to face a challenge like this. We cannot avoid the harsh realities of life. Perhaps, if more of us were committed to exercising more compassion towards one another, the harshness of life could be lessened. Giant societal changes aimed at softening the hard blows life aims at our hearts, chilling us, wounding us to our deep hurt. Homelessness, Lovelessness, Compassionlessness, Callousness: all of the ills that afflict a human soul.
One of the things I regret about being poor, having financially ruined my own life, is my inability to make my parents life easier. They have much and would not accept too much help from me in any case. They have helped me beyond any ability I could have ever have to repay it. I know this. Feel this deeply. It makes these moments where Mom has been so sad and depressed this week, tired out from her knees hurting, unable to walk for very long, difficult for me to endure when I think of what could have been had I more money to alleviate some of the trouble, or make them pass a bit more smoothly.
Lunch passed pleasantly, and it was time to wait for Dad. The TSA had taken over a significant portion of the airport since I had last been there, and the waiting areas had changed. As Dad had flown on Delta, we had to wait by the Delta ticket areas, in a make-shift waiting area by the windows, under the afternoon sun. I spoke with Mom a little about the people passing by, about how nice it will be to see Dad, and wondered with her about the various facets of his trip.
He texted her when he landed, so we moved up closer to the aisle where people were arriving from their planes. I lined Mom up in her wheelchair to a prominent corner waiting for the moment when he showed up. When he did minutes later, he was already on top of us. I did not see him pass through the doors, and only noticed him when he was feet from us. Mom and Dad hugged, and we made our way back across the airport, stopping at the restrooms first before leaving.
The traffic back was horrendous. Various bridge and freeway work had made travel through the city achingly slow. Most of our trip on the highway that skirted most of the city went along at ten miles an hour or so. There was not many moments where the speed got above that. Questioning Dad, I discovered that he had not actually had lunch on the plane like Mom had thought. Therefore, I took mom and dad through a detour to McDonalds for a hamburger. Dad also ordered a chocolate shake. I ordered an Iced Tea.
The rest of the trip home was mostly uneventful. There were various things that I had to do later that day. Deliver something to one sister, take another sister downtown to the city festival, close up the shop and turn off the water. But none of it was important enough to really remember or note.
Mom and Dad had determined to go to bed early. Dad to catch up on sleep from his jet lag, Mom to catch up sleep from her difficult sleep this past week without Dad. I left town again for an evening obligation to draw (a regular Friday habit to try and improve my life), perhaps my last drawing event for awhile. My mind was still pondering my struggles with trying to transform my life, and the impermanence of the future, and the finality of the past. The worst thing about human life, for me, for my thoughts right now, is how every mistake is firmly locked in the past. How things I did or failed to do are locked into an unchangeable past, and seem to me like streaks of india ink spilled onto a beautiful carpet. I have tried to scrub out the worst of it, but it refuses to fade or go away. I often pray to God to help me transform and become the person that I consciously want to be: to be more worthy, to be good, to be useful and help people make the world easier and better for those who struggle.I often fear that I will be locked into habits that will not change, impulses that will not fade and die away. After much thinking, I believe that the best I can do is have hope for the future, to persevere. Even if I do or did bad, I will only truly and finally fail if I give up and stop trying to make it better. Please God, help me become a true, worthy human being, and not just a physical creature afflicted by fears and failures, seeking only to satisfy my impulses and selfishness, but instead to become a spiritual being moved by heavenly-gifted virtues that serve to make the world better, to become a fragrant flower of divine attributes, lending my uniqueness, whatever that might be, to the flourishing garden of a better humanity.
27 July 2018
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