I am on my way to Muenster, Germany for a conference. Clara likes to refer to my destination as "monster." It feels a bit like I am travelling to a monster, or through a monster.
Here, if I name it most specifically, is my monster:
What if my children don't need me? If I am not there, if I am not in their lives every second making myself indispensible, if I am not the one they go to with nightmares in the night, do they still need me?
(And what if, oh you rotten stinking internet for having planted this terrible seed in my brain, it would be better for them if I died than if I divorced their father? What then? Suicidal ideations, anyone? Lengthy conversations with self in mirror about cost/value of self's existence ensue.)
Muensterous and self-indulgent musings from the floor of BWI's international departures terminal.
Muenster: the hotel looks like it will be very modern and flashy (I love that). And my mother comes from Germany but has never told me anything about it, so I am curious to be there as a grown up with my own eyes to see the world.
And I think perhaps I am doing well in my career and am creating a research niche for myself, perhaps, with the whole third culture literature thing. So, there's that.
I think you are entitled to write a Lament or maybe a Wail if you're feeling less formal. But quit with the 'what if I was not' thoughts. Your kids need you and they will need you in 20 years to call up and ask what brand of spaghetti sauce was their favorite and what was that funny thing they said when they were 4? Cleansing breaths.
ReplyDeleteThank-you, Nimble. You made me cry a bit, in a good way.
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