I don't talk about this much, but something tells me that someone needs to read what I have to say, so I'm going to tell you why I'm still here. I don't mean on the internet or writing this blog. I mean why I'm still alive.
The story begins back in the UK where, at the age of 6, I died for the first time. We were t-boned at a blind intersection somewhere in the countryside. Since we were in an American car, the passenger was killed instead of my mother. The car didn't have rear seatbelts, so I was apparently thrown from the car and died in the street. While emergency personnel responded to the scene, I remember standing on the curb with an old woman, who turned out to be the disembodied soul of my late great grandmother who had died just before we went to the UK. I didn't recognize her or realize for many years what happened. I do remember that she told me that she was there in case I wanted to leave because I didn't have to stay unless I wanted to.
Obviously I chose to stay, and I remember waking up in the street where paramedics resuscitated me wondering how I got from the sidewalk to the street. I know now that I chose to stay so that my mother, who lost a child that same year, would not lose two children. I don't know how it would have affected her.
My kid brother is now lost to my mother. He is married to a woman who doesn't want their family to have any contact with us. Last year at Christmas, they were there, and I flew in back from my vacation in Poland to be with them Christmas Day in time to see her throw a fit and pressure my brother into cutting off all contact with our family.
I don't have a lot of ambition or passion. I lost my muse and the best chance I had at a life of my own back in 2013. Since then I haven't found anyone I like who appreciates me. I don't have much expectation for my life having any real purpose. Next week will be ten years since a woman who was not a single mother was willing to go on a date with me. I am here so that my mother will not have to lose another son.
I'm not suicidal. I am in no hurry to die. I just am tired of plowing and sowing and reaping while other people get to enjoy the fruits for which I labor, even when they don't do a thing. I am not ready for death; I am ready for life. But since I don't have what I like, I keep mine so that my mother's will be better.
Sometimes people ask me why I live where I live. I am here for my parents. I may not be their favorite son. I may not be the best son. I am however the only one who was willing to put down roots somewhere they were willing to live. When my dad had surgery, I did most of the labor on their yard. When my parents leave town I watch their house. I'm here for my parents.
It's mutually beneficial. They watched my dog when I went to Poland. My dad speaks German with me. We go camping and share the outdoors, and I go over for dinner most Sundays. I'm here because my family loves me, and I don't want my mother to lose another son.
If you have spent any amount of time reading my blog or watching my videos, you have noticed I am pensive, dour and critical. The only thing I have that gives me any kind of life satisfaction is my new beagle. They took me off teaching status at work and robbed me of access to students (their loss). The Forest Service is discontinuing the program of which I have been part since 2015. But my mother is still there, and during quarantine when we were not supposed to touch people, she took the risk and would hug me knowing that I had nobody else. Family is the only thing in this world that is truly worth a damn.
I thank God for my family. In my younger and foolish years I opined that things were not as I wish. Then I grew up and realized I was pretty lucky and blessed to have the parents I have, to grow up when I did, and experience what I know. Some things were disadvantages, but I like the advantages enough to trade for them, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
I hope that you have someone in your life that you love and who loves you. I hope it's your mother. I hope your mother is one of them anyway, because I hope you have many people who care about you. What makes this life really meaningful is three fold. The knowledge you gain, the character you develop, and the relationships you nurture. That's what keeps people here and makes those of us who are still here look forward to seeing those who matter in the afterlife. If you are still here, I hope you know that even if I never meet you or talk to you or sit under a pine tree with you or travel Europe with you that I love you. I chose to come back, and I know that's a rare privilege.
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