I've come to the conclusion that humans were not meant to live alone. Men and women, in my opinion, were not created equal by design. We were created to complement each other; to be able to partner and possess traits, characteristics, emotions that the other needs. Couples are a two piece jigsaw puzzle. Sometimes it takes turning them both every direction to find the right fit. It doesn't always happen immediately. It can often take patience. And other times they mesh immediately, and oh when that happens, does it not somehow feel triumphant and meant to be? But if they don't fit, they don't belong in that puzzle. Nothing wrong with the pieces - they just haven't found their match yet.
Holidays are always a difficult time. Easter maybe should be less so, but growing up, it was a grand time. Spring was on the horizon, color was coming back into the world, and there was anticipation. As a child it was the anticipation of Grandma at the least coming to be with us, the ceremonial coloring of the Easter eggs, new Easter outfits and a great Sunday with fabulous food, probably more company and those beloved Easter baskets. As a wife and mother, there was joy in planning and preparing for the holiday. I loved shopping for miniature suits for my sons. They often looked like little Easter eggs themselves when they were tiny. Finding what would bring smiles to their faces in gathering items for the Easter Bunny to leave and cooking some holiday fare brought joy to my own life. Coloring and hiding eggs and then feigning surprise at the crazy places that darn Bunny left eggs with my sons is a cherished memory. Tucking them in, exhausted and sated with candy and attention, and going down to relive the day with my partner was fulfilling.
Through no fault of anyone though, more and more at holiday time I find myself relegated to the bench. Times have changed and young families are torn with which family member to spend the holiday with, or even worse, how to divide one day into 4 different visits with 4 different meals. Makes no sense to me. I have chosen to not be an obligation for the actual holiday to add to their chaos. It seems right. But that means I'm also out of practice at making a holiday, for myself or anyone else.
So I shouldn't complain that I'm taking a pass I suppose. Yet even when the kids were grown and gone and spending the holiday elsewhere, until three years ago, I could still make a turkey breast or buy a small ham and spend the day contentedly with my husband. I don't and won't go to the trouble for myself. Somehow it makes the day even more solitary to have a lovely meal and no one to share it with. I have let myself be on the bench too long I think. I have been content to let the others play ahead of me. Yet you can't celebrate a win if you don't participate in it. Maybe it's time to find the cleats, glove and bat and put in a little practice.
Suck it up Buttercup. Easter is about new life. It's about wonder and forgiveness. It's a time for hope and a time to toil. Plant the seed, nurture it and be patient for the harvest. Trust in God. Trust yourself. Believe in others. Do not give in or give up. Lord knows I have more than enough work at my house to bury myself in that I may not surface until summer. But there are lots of options for a long holiday weekend beyond that. It's time to stretch, momma. Grab your ball cap and get out and swing the bat. Find your pitch and you may just make contact. Keep going and you may surprise yourself and hit one out of the park. Maybe I should consider coaching........yet as I write, I feel the life coursing back through my veins. I don't think I'm ready to retire just quite yet. I think maybe I just needed to put my pep talk to paper. I need to get out and practice. Practice life as a single. Maybe someone will want me on their team. Maybe I'll be the missing piece to someones puzzle. Maybe I'll catch the game winner! And of course I may strike out. Yet that doesn't mean I won't get another turn at bat! But I won't know if I don't play. Have to finish now - I think it's my turn at bat.
