Woe is me...

Today I feel old.  I feel tired and dispirited.  Interesting how these feelings come and go.  Sometimes they are way, way at the back of my life and hardly merit a consideration.  At other times like today, the same feelings seem to be much bigger and right in front of me.  It's as if the feelings just bubble and up and refuse to be ignored. The sun is shining, the days are getting longer and the winter is finally disappearing.  This should be a cause for rejoicing. Today the rejoicing feels a bit muted.

The question I ask myself is whether or not it's worth giving this any attention. There is no real reason for these feelings to come now. Maybe it's those rays of sun shining through the dust shouting 'clean me'. Maybe it's having gained some weight over the winter and maybe it's just that I feel a bit like I'm drowning in melancholy and sadness right now.

Recently seeing my father is part of this sadness.  No matter how often I might be able to visit him or how far away I live, there is nothing I can do, he is slowly leaving us.  I have written about this before and I'm a little shocked at how painful I am finding this. I was able to be so strong with my mother during the last months of her life.  Why does this feel so different? Why am I so different with this?

My father was always the quiet one in my house.  He left the visible parenting to my mother and busied himself with the business of working and supporting us. He was generally easy-going and didn't outwardly worry about much, but he took life seriously and his duties and obligations even more seriously.  He was never unemployed, never took more than a couple of weeks a year holiday and carried on working until he was in his late seventies.

He also was always there for me to lean on completely whenever there was a crisis.  In any sort of crisis my mother, who appeared to be the stronger of the two, or at least the more vocal, fell apart. She always looked like she could cope, until the crunch moment, and then it was my father who took over. Even though my dad was never as Americanised as my mum, could never have a real conversation with my teachers or even speak great English, he was my protector.  I always felt safe with my dad.

I never really felt safe with my mother. I always felt like I had to take care of my mother. She was very needy and had lots of neuroses that I'm sure were exacerbated by her war experiences. I often wonder if she was a  fearful child and I think I remember my uncle telling me that as a child she was nervous and hesitant. I guess she never really changed and her life experience just reinforced her fears.

I have a lot of my mother in me and I know that my children have often felt that I was the one who needed mothering. I am so sorry about this and hope that over the past few years this has changed. I know from experience it's a heavy burden to carry. I also know that I have a lot of my father in me too. His strength and humour are two wonderful qualities that I have in abundance and I guess that on the days when life just seems overwhelming I should be connecting with my dad's energy instead of my default setting of channeling my mother's depression.

As the evening draws in I can admit defeat today and start again in the morning. Tonight before I fall asleep I'll try and remember to programme myself to wake up mindfully and greet the day with optimism.  I'm so delighted that I always have tomorrow.