Sometimes I wonder who I am, where I've been, do I fit in? No, not really.
Here is what I really wonder.
Why, no matter how busy I am, do I insist upon cutting out the box tops for school. I remember a time when my world had literally collapsed, all was lost. I had trouble finding a reason to live and yet I could not physically throw away that cereal box without snipping the box top. Was it a desperate attempt to hold on to normalcy or was it a matter of sanity?
Why do I love marching bands and bagpipes? If I see a marching band with bagpipes I will cry. The same holds true for fireworks if the Lee Greenwood song, "Proud to be an American" is played.
How can I hate politicians and politics so much that I refuse to watch, participate or expose myself to news, other than that which I carefully screen through my rose colored glasses while I clearly feel unsettled enough to lose sleep at night?
Why do I test the limits of health and well being? I mean, for God's sake, what is this wreckless behavior all about? Mom used to say I was well adept at cutting off my nose to spite my face. But what if my face was happy to be rid of my nose? Sometimes you have to lose by a nose, right?
Why have I spent the last year and a half not the slightest bit interested in having a mate, counterpart, companion, lover or whatever the hell else one might normally desire in their life? Is there something wrong with me, this need to be on my own? There have been times when I thought about my grandmother who lost her husband at a young age and never married or once even dated to the day she died at the age of 93. I adored her. Did I admire her too much? Did I receive her gutsy determination or did I inherit her thankfullness to be free? Was she free or was she lonely? Did she choose to be single or was the choice made for her? She raised three kids on her own but was she successful or sorry in the end?
Sometimes I wonder who I am, where I've been, do I fit in - but those thoughts are most often replaced by a fierce need to get through each day raising my three kids on my own; finding a way to make them feel my love beyond words, working hard to pay our bills and struggling, at times, to find a reason to wake up and cut another box top.
Am I missing the bigger picture here?
After all, what about God?