It seems by the time you hit the ripe young age of 61, you would have a pretty good idea of who you are and what your part is in this world. Some days, I honestly have no idea who I am or what role people expect me to play.
Do any of you out there feel the same way? I wonder how many people are so centered within their own personal space, that they know exactly who they are and what they want out of life and never worry about anything else.
I'm a daughter, I'm a sister, I'm an aunt, I'm a sister-in-law, a great-aunt, a great-great aunt, a niece, a cousin, a wife, a mother, a grammy, a friend, a sister in Christ, I'm a mother-in-law, a volunteer, a substitute teacher, a Bible Class teacher, a poet, a photographer, a non published writer of children's stories, a maker of greeting cards, gift cards and postcards, a mower and trimmer of our acreage and the list goes on.
Those are the things I am and some of the things I do, but who am I really? No one knows what my personal thoughts are, unless I write them in my journal or blog them or even include them in my poetry. And those are just the tip of the iceberg, although I don't care to write cliches very often.
If our true inner thoughts could be recorded somehow by an outside source, I think I would actually run away from everything I know, change my name and live like a hermit deep in the forest someplace.
Our secret selves can be very scary not only to other people, but to ourselves as well.
Funny that my own children question who I am. Yes, they do. They think I have changed since they have grown up to be adults. For one thing that makes me so nervous, that I actually feel different around them and their spouses. So I become someone else. Kind of an oddball character, who I don't want to be. I say and do things that I don't want to do or say, but it is the sad truth that I get so nervous around them, I want to be the perfect mom they are entitled to and I blow it. Not all the time, but wow, it does seem to happen a lot lately. I love all of them so much, I don't think they even realize how much.
I try to explain to them that I have always been me. I just was so busy trying to be Mom to them through their growing up years, I had to put on hold all the creative things I had built up inside of me, but didn't have much time to express them. It takes a lot of energy and will power to raise 5 children who are so different from one another and basically doing it by myself since their dad unknown to us at the time was suffering from PTSD from two tours in Viet Nam. It wasn't that he didn't want to be a good dad to our children, but he was incapable of it because of the depression.
Now that they are all out on their own and have their own families and lives to live, I can be more than just mom. Don't get me wrong, I love being a mother and grandmother. The best jobs I have ever had, but I'm more than that. I know I get a little obsessed when I am trying new things in my life, but I just get excited about them and it's such a wonderment to me that I can actually do somethings that I thought I could never do. Do I make mistakes? Oh yes, on a daily basis. Do I do it on purpose? No! I would never purposely set out to hurt someone else verbally or physically.
My best cheerleader is my husband. How wonderful is that? We are so lucky to be together, as I know God brought us together for a purpose. First we have five fantastic children and their fantastic mates and children. Chuck and I have been through so much together and so much apart because of Viet Nam, but we believe in the "Until death us do part." He takes care of me and I take care of him. Now the kids have others to take care of them and they have them to take care of. Of course we change throughout the years. After all, Chuck and I met in March of 1967 and married on January 20, 1968, over 40 years ago.
So I guess in a way I answered who I am. I am who God wants me to be. That certainly can't be a bad thing.
I'm Karen. I was Karen when I was born, when I married, when I had children, when I became a Christian, and I'm still Karen after 61 years. And you know what? I like myself.
