The time comes to blog about an L word. Now there is an L word that I have thought about but every time I try to blog about it I can't seem to find the right words. Maybe it's because I am frightened of it. So instead of blogging about love, I think I'll blog about something else that I've been thinking about lately. I'm going to blog about the word lost.
I never remember getting lost as a child. I never really strayed too far from home to tell the truth. My brothers and sisters did way more exploring than I did. I was happy to make up games in the back yard. My oldest younger brother once tried to ride to the store on his tricycle but a family friend found him and brought him back before he got half a mile down the road. When my oldest was about two I found out she knew how to unlock the door when she actually did. We were living with my grandmother at the time and when it got quiet I assumed my granny was playing a little game with her as they often did. However, when I went to check on them a few minutes later I found my granny asleep and oldest was nowhere to be found. I frantically searched the house but she wasn't in it. Only then did I check the door which had been locked to find that she had gotten out. Thankfully, someone found her and brought her back, she wasn't too far down the road but the cops got called and I got really scared I'd lose her. After that I took nothing for granted.
I did get lost as a teenager. Well, not so much lost as I lost my family. We were at a crowded mall on one of the busiest days of the year and my dad sent me to one store to check if they had something while he was shopping at another. When I found out they didn't have it, I went back to the store I had left him at but he and my brothers and sisters that were with him were nowhere to be found. Perhaps that incident is what escalated my fear of crowded spaces. I went back to the store I had been sent to and waited hoping that he would eventually come looking for me. About a half-hour later I heard my name paged over the store's intercom and went where the voice directed me. Sure enough, there was my dad. Turns out he had sent my brother over to tell me they were moving to the food court but he had gone to the wrong part of the store and went back to report that I wasn't there.
So much for the literal interpretation of the word lost. Now I'm going to talk about being lost figuratively. I have felt that way many times. During my sister's illness and my daughter's illness especially. Although they were different, I felt that I had to put on a brave face through both. The year following my daughter's diagnosis, while she was recovering from her ordeal, my granny died. I am not sure why I was unable to cry when this happened but I think perhaps it is linked to the first two incidents. I think perhaps it is because I was feeling similar to what I felt through my sister's and daughter's illnesses and that even though I knew there was really no one I had to be brave for I just couldn't help it. You see, my maternal grandmother was always my role model and she and I became especially close when we lived at her house for the first four years of Anne's life. I had already been living there for a year prior to Anne's birth. In the last few years we were living there I took care of my Granny as her health was deteriorating.
I have felt lost in my marriage and since my separation. I do not think it is anyone's fault that I feel this way sometimes. I think perhaps it is just a way all people feel sometimes and that is what friends are for. However, I have very few friends and the ones I do have all have their own problems so I hesitate to bother them with my insignificant thoughts. Sometimes, though, just talking to someone about nothing in particular helps.
Of course, many turn to religion in times like this and I'll admit that I used to be one of those people. I still pray from time to time but I mostly try to pray altruistic prayers because I have a hard time believing that narcissistic prayers get paid very much heed. Some people say you should pray like you're talking to a friend but the reason I don't is because I expect a friend to reply. I expect something to be said. However, even if I get a calming feeling when I pray or a thought pops into my head, I know there is every probability that it has been done on a subconscious level by me myself and is not a message from some higher power.