Location: On the Way Home (2015-12-11)
We grew into children running around and creating chaos. Surprisingly, the chaos we created was cute to many.
Then the obnoxious years of teen bid upon us their presence. We battled through the acne and restrictions, grades and parental consents, the ‘I can’t wait till I’m 18’ phase and the social disasters, cliques and clothing and lo and behold! Before we knew it, it was graduation day and we had turned 18 and we had gotten that high school diploma that gave us such grief for years. The grief did buy us our other goal too: we got into the prestigious University.
Now, we just couldn’t wait till we got our degree. Life was going to be perfect. Through the struggle of years and years of scholarly expenditures, and as the waning years of youth neared the pinnacle, our fuel that was our broke wallets and tattered pajamas took us through and landed us on the graduation stage at the Alumni Auditorium with a degree in Honors, etcetera etcetera, and a crisp suit of navy that screamed borrowed money, but hey, I’ll pay you later, trust, because I’m gonna get a good job with this degree. Now, what we were missing was marriage. We need a good partner in life.
And so we found that other half. Soul mate, someone we vowed to spend the rest of our lives with. We hauled that limousine and furnished the apartment. We had that wedding which was blessed with credit cards and debts unpaid, because hey, I got the job now and soon enough, I’ll have the savings. Now we were a couple. A house is not a happy house without children creating chaos.
And so we had children and we were satisfied. The kids created chaos and we thought it was cute. Here’s the diaper, change it. Here, here, I found the perfect high chair so the kid doesn’t fall off. First day of school. Smile, you toothy monster, show those gummy teeth. Here’s the consent form for the field trip, honey. Take that sunscreen with you. What? You need a Nike T-shirt? Okay, I’ll get you one. Here, here’s an iPad for your birthday. Happy 13th dear. Now you better take care of your little sister. You’re a grown up now.
So we had teenagers and now, life would be perfect if these distracted young ones did something worthwhile and got good grades and got into University. We sat at their High School graduations, crying tears of joy, remembering our own times. Back when we were the heedless and just learning to stand up on our own. Here’s the baby picture. Oh nostalgia, how time flies. Here you go sweetheart. Your graduation gift is a car.
Ah. But little did we realize that the gift, in essence, was distance. The keys to farther away. The contraption on four wheels that takes us farther apart in life, so that now, we see our children during holidays when they are free from their scholarly expenditures, wearing tattered pajamas and carrying broke wallets, as they wait and strive towards the ‘life would be perfect’ phase of life.
We beam at the camera at their University graduation, then their wedding. Then once again when we first become grandparents and hold our first grandchild.
And then…
And then…
And then what?
We’re expected to then sit on our porches and sip tea as we knit and read.
So that life can be perfect?
Oh but haven’t you yet learned that life never reaches perfect. The very false dogma of perfection is the root of our insufficiency and unsettlements.
Maybe, maybe, just maybe, if we could sit back, reflect and think. That you witnessing the leaf falling to the ground through your cracked window is perfection itself. That the snowflake that just bestowed itself upon your windshield is perfection itself. That maybe, the cup of tea that you just had was perfection itself. That the dinner you had with your grandparents and your cousins was perfection itself.
That your struggle to perfection carries in it a similitude of moments and memories, things and places and people that were perfection manifest in the form that they were in.
That because only God is The Most Perfect, He, in His Mercy has blessed us with each day, each minute, in order to make us realize the little perfections that He has hidden in every corner for us to pause and reflect upon.
There is more to life than the next milestone. Turn around. Find your Mom. And tell her you love her. Trust. That’s perfection in and of itself.