Thank goodness for this year’s longest weekend. Every lull moment in between the daily grind gets allocated to: extra sleep, leisure/hobbies, upkeep of dwelling place, and reflection.
I miss doing the last one.
I have been trying to trace the patterns that shape my being – how I came to be who I am now, and the way I view the world – through my childhood and my parents. It’s a never-ending attempt to self-understanding that never runs out of interesting revelations.
More than just the how my parents brought me up, their psycho/physio-genetic features provide useful insights: the emotional fortitude (or the lack of it), the ailments that I will inevitably have to contend with, the propensity for good and evil, among others.
These insights were the basis for my personal vows – those that still stand and those that were already broken – in hopes of continuing the good in our family’s little cycle of life, and ending the bad.
As I grow old, however, I see more of the bad, entwined across the generations like a web. The vague stories shared in hushed whispers since my childhood slowly made sense, and I, slowly and painfully, understood how deep the web goes.
But, mercifully, the patterns became just as clear.
Entering the married life opened me to a whole new set of patterns to unravel, and the possible decisions to make in the hope of breaking the cycle.
It would be yet another set of patterns when we, if fate be kind, began to take the path of parenthood.
History has its lessons and the patterns have their stories. Learning from them is another thing.
A safe, restful, and blessed Holy Week to all.