Of shaded hues… and sharp contrasts

My husband and daughter were looking at some old pictures when I overheard, “Really??? Is that  MOM??? No way!" And much squealing thereafter. So I went in to see what photograph was invoking such a response. It was an old picture of me showing some Florida Gator spirit. It had me grinning wide with gator tattoos on either cheek – all set for a football game in the Swamp. My daughter had so much disbelief on her face that I had to join in on the laughter.

I have seen the same disbelief on her face several times – when she sees old pictures of me, when she hears stories – told by me, or by family members. As if trying to piece the puzzle that her mother used to be. And she makes me repeat silly stories that seem like adventures to her, over and over again.

Later that evening, she exclaimed again, “Were you like just a kid?” “Nope. It was just a few years before you were born.” “REALLY? But you were so cool!!” she exclaimed. I laughed though it felt anything but flattering. And with every bit of sass that is still left in me, I replied, “that cool person is still in there somewhere, you know!”

She eyed me thoughtfully, but seemed anything but convinced and I realized that she had never known the old me. The old me that my family and close friends miss so much. Sometimes I wonder if we’re attributing too much to illness, but fact remains that I often see sadness on the faces of family and friends when they see me, when they talk about the old-me. And I feel their pain, and I even feel oddly responsible. But there is little I can do about it. So I choose to let it go. And then I feel sorry for my daughter - that she never got to meet this other person that so many people seem to miss. But there is little that I can do about it. So I choose to let it go.

Maybe they reminisce old stories about this very different person I used to be, in the hope that this person may still be there – somewhere deep within. It is almost fun for me, in an incredulous kind of way. It doesn’t make me particularly sad. For I live with the now-me everyday. But it makes them sad. But there is little that I can do about it. And so I choose to let it go.

But it wasn’t always so. Some years back, an old co-worker sent me an email asking, “Have you got your effervescent life and being back?” I almost wept. For I had shut that effervescent person away – far far away. I saw a sharp contrast in the then and now and it made me sad.

I really don’t want to live life in sharp contrasts anymore. For it is a jarring way to exist. And life seems more pleasant in a continuous hue of shades.

So although I choose to let go of the old me - for memories of the old person will make the now-person lack-luster; I wonder if there may be an essence of being within that may still exist. It may have become something else – but it is all part of my color scheme. And hopefully that color scheme will be one of several hues and not sharp contrasts.