My parents were in a bridge club when I was a kid, and I loved it when it was their turn to host the group.
My mom would always make dessert — which was a rare thing in our house — and my dad would fill up finger bowls with seasoned bridge mix and corn nuts. (Fancy!)
In broad strokes, I think I’m a lot like my mom; but, when it comes to the details, I think my mom was much more laid back than I am. I believe this because my mom had special serving plates just for her bridge gatherings, but they didn’t all match, and that used to drive me crazy! But my mom didn’t seem to be bothered by stuff like that.
(I miss my mom so much…)
I loved watching my parents set up for their guests. They’d move the living room furniture around so all of the card tables would fit; and, my mom would place new tally sheets and playing cards — with beautiful designs on the back — on each table. Sometimes, before all of the guests would sit down, I’d sneak into the living room, and hide underneath one of the card tables.
I liked to see how the grown-ups would cross their legs, or wiggle their feet when they played a good hand. I also liked to listen to them talk; they all seemed so figured out. The polite conversation invited laughter and pleasantries that seemed to define adulthood for me. I liked thinking about what it must be like to be in charge of yourself.
You could eat what you want, go where you want…do what you want.
But my dad would eventually catch me. And, he was never happy to see me under a card table. But even my dad’s way of taking charge of things with me was something I used to study. I feel like so many things about my childhood were wonderful — and my parents did so much to protect me from the stuff I wasn’t ready to understand. They kept their struggles contained between them, and I only have memories of how safe my mom and dad always made me feel.
But there was this part of me that believed that once you became an actual adult, you’d never feel scared again. Grown-ups didn’t feel afraid or lost; and once you transitioned into adulthood, you could cross you legs, practice polite chit chat, and laugh at the ironies of life.
But as it turns out, adulthood isn’t at all what I thought it would be.
I didn’t automatically have things figured out just because I was older; and, being afraid as a grown-up is so much more terrifying than it was when I was little. Being an adult is exactly like being a kid — only you have more things, more responsibilities, and more of an understanding of how the world really works; and, there isn’t someone in your life that is supposed to carry that whole load for you anymore.
It’s all on you.
I have to make a confession. I’m not sure if I can keep writing these blog entries if I don’t. Today, I woke up wishing I could hide under a card table, and wait for my dad to catch me, and take me to the safety of my childhood bedroom. I feel like I’ve made such a mess of my adulthood, and I wish I could just start over…
There are so many messy endings in what I’ve already written, and I’ve got to face more of the same if I’m going to keep writing. I feel so sad that I’ve never known how to fix all of the things that have happened during The Imposition Tour. I feel like surviving became such a priority that when I recall certain things from this time in my life, I feel overwhelmed by the fact that I know I dismissed so much goodness and support we were shown.
Looking back now, I realize that I didn’t know how to thank, or explain…or express my thoughts at that time, and it’s difficult to face this story now without feeling an awareness of how many things I’ve done wrong, and how many people I’ve probably disappointed or hurt.
Maybe this blog is partly a catharsis for myself, and partly an expression of the reasons behind some of my deepest regrets… Or maybe, I’m attempting to accept the shortcomings I see in myself differently so I can at least act like a grown up while I try to figure things out.
