The Meaning of Life…

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For several years I thought that the meaning of my life was going to be centered in the tranquility of rural settings. I made preparations to be “earthy”, and organic. I packed up and left Southern California for the hills of Kentucky and envisioned a life of artistic bliss, four seasons and reconnecting with my roots.
What actually happened was that within the first six months I had purchased a house sight unseen, done numerous renovations, lost my father to old age and began the task of caring for my elderly, infirmed mother.
I loved her dearly, but it did mean that my life became subject to her health and inability to be left alone for long periods of time.
Make no mistake, I’m glad I was there for her. In my life there was a great luxury of time spent with my parents, perhaps more than other people get to experience. One of the great misconceptions of western society is that growing up means fleeing the family and living in isolation. Responsibility has to do with how we relate to others, not how quickly we can be rid of them. But, that’s another subject.

The point of this is, however, that the best laid plans are still not always the best plans. The meaning of my life while tending to mom is inestimable in it’s worth to me as a daughter. If I am only now gaining entry into the world I envisioned then, I have no complaints. I simply am better prepared.

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