Today's date is special to me, and this post marking it is very personal.
I am now thinking of two loved ones who recently returned from emigration.
Love is not just a feeling. It is a skill that is not always easy. It is expressed in acts that, like all our acts, may have results different from those wished.
When something goes wrong with someone we love, we start the "What if..." thinking. We see grave mistakes in what we have done or not done 15 or 20 years ago. I don't know if this sometimes teaches us to avoid future mistakes; but what is sure is that it is felt as devastating.
I usually respect other people's privacy and rarely try to impose my opinions on them and to tell them how to live. I wish to live my life and understand that others want and deserve the same. When a friend or a relative makes a step I would not make, I do not rush to label it a mistake, because different people want different things. However, when something bad happens , I feel guilty for having done nothing to prevent it.
A month or two ago, I heard of a composer in the city of Varna who set up his own music studio and so gained independence. Because my loved people were musicians, I immediately thought that they could possibly do the same and nobody would need to emigrate. This imagined picture of what might have been, and the feeling of guilt for not having given enough support (to be precise, any support) to make other solutions possible, almost made me cry.
It is especially difficult to decide how to behave if you are in the position of an aunt (uncle) or an in-law. Because people don't choose their aunts and in-laws and we all know how arrogantly some of them intrude into our lives, I prefer not to be intruding. So I do not call those whom I love - and then sit and think that maybe they wish I had called.
If they are reading this, I hope they know that I love them and I am thinking of them, despite not calling. If I can help them in any way, I wish they just tell me. Of course I hope they won't be in any need of help, but if this happens, I'll do what I can.
I am now thinking of two loved ones who recently returned from emigration.
Love is not just a feeling. It is a skill that is not always easy. It is expressed in acts that, like all our acts, may have results different from those wished.
When something goes wrong with someone we love, we start the "What if..." thinking. We see grave mistakes in what we have done or not done 15 or 20 years ago. I don't know if this sometimes teaches us to avoid future mistakes; but what is sure is that it is felt as devastating.
I usually respect other people's privacy and rarely try to impose my opinions on them and to tell them how to live. I wish to live my life and understand that others want and deserve the same. When a friend or a relative makes a step I would not make, I do not rush to label it a mistake, because different people want different things. However, when something bad happens , I feel guilty for having done nothing to prevent it.
A month or two ago, I heard of a composer in the city of Varna who set up his own music studio and so gained independence. Because my loved people were musicians, I immediately thought that they could possibly do the same and nobody would need to emigrate. This imagined picture of what might have been, and the feeling of guilt for not having given enough support (to be precise, any support) to make other solutions possible, almost made me cry.
It is especially difficult to decide how to behave if you are in the position of an aunt (uncle) or an in-law. Because people don't choose their aunts and in-laws and we all know how arrogantly some of them intrude into our lives, I prefer not to be intruding. So I do not call those whom I love - and then sit and think that maybe they wish I had called.
If they are reading this, I hope they know that I love them and I am thinking of them, despite not calling. If I can help them in any way, I wish they just tell me. Of course I hope they won't be in any need of help, but if this happens, I'll do what I can.
No comments:
Post a Comment