The Three

There is a theory that things in life come in threes. There are many examples every can point to in life. And indeed that would be the case now. I have a tattoo of three doves over an infinite sign, representative of the three beautiful people I lost in my life over the past 2 years.

And now I have three siblings who seem to no longer want a relationship. Things said and done before I was born have set the stage for now. Things none of us had any control over, things that are no ones fault who are still left on this earth. And yet the ghost of the words and actions of others haunt us still.

I am the youngest, born in 1973, long after dreadful deeds were done. And sometimes I wonder how I can be the youngest and still be the most aware of the pettiness of who wrote what paragraph 13 years ago in a document none of us had anything to do with.

How can I be the youngest and be the one who sees how ridiculous it is to hold onto pain that was cause by people who are dead.  Everyone who put this situation in motion is dead.  They are gone. And when in this situation you have a choice – hold onto a dead man’s grudge and let that grudge make you bitter; or move forward in love and light and learn about things and people yourself. I choose that latter.

But you cannot make that choice for someone else.  So if they choose to hang on to a dead man’s grudge, then let them have it.  They can go down with the ship – along with the Hatfield’s and McCoy’s (how many generations did that go?).  I was fine before they came back, I will be fine when they leave.

Except I don’t want them to go. I want them to stay.

Maybe it is too much for a relationship categorized as “weird” to bare. Maybe the affection and curiosity were not returned, but merely tolerated. Maybe there is “too much baggage” as stated – except that it is not my baggage and I will not pick it up at baggage claim. Maybe I do not belong after all.

And I have a confession to make.  More than anything in life, at this moment, I simply want to find where I belong. With whom? And where? At Christmas, on whose wreath shall I knock? Family would be the natural choice, but not always. And so that is for what I search.  A place to go and to be; someplace to belong. A place to learn and be loved and to love in return.

And maybe the answer is not to look for it among others, even if they are family  Maybe it is to create it ourselves?  But how?  I have no family of my own. The answer is…I don’t know.  I do know that no solution, or love, was ever found by feeling sorry for yourself.  I know that you cannot make anyone love, accept or even like you.

And so I will not be moving to North Carolina like I had hoped. Where will I go?  I don’t know.  But I know that the world is full of wonderful places and amazing people, and most of all, the world is full of love.  It is up to me to find it, cultivate it, and grow it.  It is up to me to write my life and my story and the happy ending I hope to find, somewhere.  And if those who I originally cast do not want to accept the role?  Then it is up to me to find others who will.  It is up to me to make sure my life and my heart are full.

And that is the three for which now I seek: Love of God, Love in my heart, and love of a family to call my own –  how ever they come to me and whoever they turn out to be. And honestly in life, in if we have those three, then we are truly lucky and blessed indeed.