I once asked a friend how she ended up in Philly. Having been raised here for most of my life, it was hard to believe why anyone would willingly come here of all places. She told me she needed a change of scenery.
Later on, however, she admitted she had come to Philly to run away from her hometown and from the skeletons that lurked about as constant reminders of issues and problems she wasn't quite ready to face.
Lately, I've had this need to run away myself. Not so much from problems, but towards something. To my detriment, I was (am) always sensible and reliable. The girl with the good head on her shoulders. The one who'll take care of her mom.
I don't want to be that anymore. I suffocate under these burdens. I thrash and recoil. I want to run for my life, but feel this unseen familial tether ground me.
On Friday (the most depressed I've ever been), I sat with my mom in the kitchen eating dinner. I ate in silence, forcing the food to go down, eyes studying my bowl of rice cake soup. And I wondered if this was my lot: to be at my mom's side.; her constant companion and the sponge to soak up all her concerns and distresses. I almost cried.
A few days ago, as I was exiting a nearby mall, I saw a woman in her late 50s pushing her elderly mother around in her wheelchair. It was obvious to me that theirs was a co-dependent relationship.
I watched them as the daughter wheeled her mother to their car. Listened as she spoke. Observed my current situation plus 25 years traverse across the parking lot and drive away to an all-too-familiar life.
I watched and felt my heart sink deep into the waters of hopelessness. Lord, surely THIS isn't the life you are calling me to? I can't. I need to be free from this, Lord, as selfish as it is, I want my own life. To be happy and loved. To do things at my leisure. To live.
I cannot walk any longer in these filial daughter shoes that my heritage seems to have bound my feet in. I cannot. Will not. And come hell or high waters or the scorn of my family, I will escape from this. For my mom's sake and for my own.
1 comment:
Oh no! I know this wasn't supposed to make me laugh, but the images you kept seeing of a daughter pushing her mother around were kind of funny! Annie, God has so much for you, don't ever worry that he's going to leave you stranded in a storyline that irks you. He'll come through! {I know you know this in the moments when you're not visualizing these episodes of mother-daughter bondage}
:)
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