I suppose I should begin with the short version of my story: I’ve seen my family once in the past 20 years. There are some very solid and defendable reasons for this, none of which I feel the need to divulge just now. Let’s just say I set out on my own and stayed on that path because I needed to feel safe. I’d been angry about a lot of things for a very, very long time and grown accustomed to it; that was where I thought my life would remain.
Turns out that anger, when carried for a long period of time, can do a good deal of harm and damage to the person bearing it. Even worse, that anger does nothing to harm the object, but it can poison the life of the carrier…and it’s taken me more than five decades to figure that out. After a lot of counseling and soul-searching, I’ve finally come to understand that in order to be able to get on with my life and really, truly live it, I need to free myself of that anger. That’s an easy concept to elucidate, but it’s very difficult to bring it to fruition.
Toward that end, I’ve spent the past few months trying to find a place where my desire to be free of my anger outweighed my attachment to it. In a perfect world, there are questions I’d like answered and things I want to say, but we live in a decidedly imperfect world, and sometimes the best one can hope for is to figure out how to live in the moment. Such has been my journey. I can’t change the past, the future is yet to be, and all we really have is this moment, which helps determine what’s yet to come.
At the beginning of October, Erin and I are going back to Minnesota for a week. I’ve wanted to show her where I grew up and spent the first 23 years of my life. I’ve also wanted to revisit a place that remains part of me no matter where I travel or how much time has passed. Growing up in the Great White North helped make me who I am, and I’ve been feeling the need to reconnect with it for some time.
Beyond that, it presents an opportunity for me to reconnect with my family. Part of me is excited at that prospect, part of me has no idea what to expect, and the rest of me is a bit terrified. I’d be something less than honest were I to pretend otherwise.
There came a point where I realized that in order for me to be able to live a whole and free life, I needed to find a way to come to peace with my past. I can’t change what happened, but I don’t need to let what’s come before overshadow and in some cases rule what is yet to come. I can’t control much of what will happen with my family. Given our history, it’s unlikely that we’ll ever be as tight or as loving as Erin’s family. There’s simply too much distance and too much history for that to be a realistic possibility. I’d like to think that we can be a part of each other’s lives- to whatever degree may be possible.
I’ve spent the better part of my time on this planet making a life as if I had no family. I left home at 18 and never really looked back…but I was carrying a rucksack stuffed to the seams with anger, though I wasn’t fully aware of it at the time. Nor did I understand how that anger would come to impact and in some cases dominate every aspect of my life- every relationship, every job, every decision. I lived with that for 36 years, until with some assistance I came to understand that even though anger had thoroughly infiltrated my life, I had the power to change. I had the power to choose a different path…and so I did. Finally.
It took almost four decades, but I finally feel as if I’ve been able to let go. The questions I’d like answered, the things I’d like to say…none of that really matters anymore. Perhaps it was the realization that at 54 I’m on the back end of the actuarial bell curve. That’s not being morbid; it’s just statistical reality. None of us walk this Earth forever, and with each passing month and year, I become more aware of that truth. Tomorrow is guaranteed to none of us, so if I pass on this opportunity, it’s possible another opportunity may not come my way again.
I don’t know what to expect when I get to Minnesota. Anger? Indifference? Acceptance? Redemption? Some combination of those things? Ultimately, I have no control over that; what will be will be. I’ll accept it, process it as best I can and move on. And then I’ll come home to Portland and get on with my life. I hope for the best while also girding myself for the worst.
Beyond all that, I’m excited to have the opportunity to go back to a place that was home for my first 23 years. It’s a place I still love, though I harbor no desire to return permanently. Winters that descend like the Black Angel of Death and linger interminably are too much to contemplate; I’ve done my time in Siberia. At least this trip will be just before winter sets in…and then I can return to the rain. At least I don’t have to shovel it.
Stay tuned….
