Devoting your life to other people - good or bad? (After Dad Died)
July 4, 2008
I once happily went out of my way to help people, usually to my detriment in terms of efficiency of and time for study, and dedication to growing my relationship with Steve in what little free time we have during the school year. Since returning from the long and sad winter, I feel only the slightest guilt about declining dates with my sister and nephew and about not initiating contact with "the lady with the baby" or my younger cousins to assist and entertain them.
Talking to Mom on the phone the other day, I confessed this apologetically, even though she has not suffered a harm from this new apathy. "Me, too," she said. It gave me surprisingly great relief, as though being selfish is justified when you are in beloved company. When my sister invited me over for dinner the next night, I felt a fresh sense of enthusiasm, and enjoyed a great night of bonding with her family.
It could be that I'm still recovering from the exhausting shenanigans between my mother and her siblings, that reflection on Dad's life unveiled to me that you can truly lose and abuse yourself in dedicating your life to other people, or that I'm just plain tired (still?).
Everyone agreed that Dad spent most of his life dedicated to the cause of my mother's comfort. Granted, she was never quite comfortable and sometimes he went about that mission in ways that were misunderstood. I did observe that he loved to talk about how things interested him, and how he contemplated taking various things up in hobby. I used to think his lack of practiced skills was a result of laziness, but, after taking care of my mom for only four months, I could understand how I might never finish the quilt I started, read through the book I bought, or enjoy the great outdoors in stretches greater than a half hour (while waiting for the ferry).
The saving grace in that story, though, is Love. I'm sure Dad never regretted, in fact I'm sure he was quite proud of the fact, that he spent his adult life serving his family and his church. But it did alert me to the possibility that you could also blindly dole out an entire lifetime to everyone else's causes, never slowing down enough to ask yourself "What can I do for me today?". As a result, I am unapologetically exercising my right to selfishly hoard my life this summer.
As a result, I already have many wonderful memories of this summer, although it is only July. The best thing that happened this summer is a non-occurrence. That is, not enrolling in summer classes has made possible: working full-time at a legal internship filled with great opportunities, spending unprecedented time with Steve (and loving it), going to the beach (twice already!), camping, bike-riding several days a week, learning to cook many different foods, and actually being part of my friends' plans, instead of just hearing vague stories during the holidays and seeing online photos with no context.
I have arranged a few visits with my sister's family, and a day-trip to State College with my younger cousin for her 16th birthday. As for the "lady with the baby," it probably just eases the guilt, but my theory on why they don't call for help renewing their medical or cash assistance, or for help with tuition and enrollment of the kids in the next school term, is that I've taught them enough to make them self-sufficient in these things. People often tell me, "You'd be surprised how well they get on without you." But then again, we're all getting on without Dad, but it doesn't mean I don't miss his checking in on me every now and then.
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