WHAT IF TOMORROW IS SILENT?

“…sounds you love but can no longer enjoy.” These are the words that end a radio ad by Canadian Hearing Society. 
As I heard those words, I thought about how my heart fills with joy when I hear my children laughing with one another and wondered what it would mean to lose my hearing and not be able to hear those sounds.

https://esserealis.wordpress.com/2015/05/01/being-real-silence/

Someone I know will always shush the children, saying they were making noise.

Those words made me dwell on how we take our hearing for granted. We assume that we will always be able to hear, so please World, be quiet for now until I am ready to bear your noise. What if you are no longer able to hear when you are willing or ready to hear the world? Think about it...

The sound of running water, crashing waves, howling winds, happy laughter of children, arguments during a game, music, the cheer of fans at your favourite sporting event or even the bitter arguments of disagreement.

Imagine life without sound…silence…lips moving, hands gesticulating, expressive faces…yet silence…only silence…

Be happy to hear. Enjoy the "noise". Appreciate the sounds, they may not last forever. Delight in hearing.

Enjoy what you hear today because you don't know the silence that tomorrow can bring.

Love Enough to Not Hate

My mother died when I was 6 years old and my father died when I was 41.

In all those years, my father never said a bad word about my mother or her family. He honoured her memory and was a consistent participant in all of her family’s events. Any opinions I formed about her family were based on my personal interactions and experiences with them. To me, this speaks to how much my father loved my mother. His love for her transcended her death.

During a time of mega-stress in my marriage relationship, one of my uncles pleaded with me not to say any bad thing about my husband to or in front of my children. I wish I could say I followed that advice.  However, I was forced to after my son told a friend how much it hurt him when I talked badly about his father and just in case that wasn’t enough, in a separate incident, my daughter also told me to stop talking badly about their father.

I learnt my lesson the hard way and since then, I’ve been thinking about my father’s relationship with my mother. One would say they must have had a perfect relationship but I remember clearly one episode, when I walked in on their quarrel, as a 5 or 6-year old. I believe my parents had a love-filled relationship but had times of relationship stress too. That part of their relationship was not shared with us even after my mother's passing.

Sometimes we hear people say they’re in their relationship for their children or that they can do anything for their children. But many times those same people leave scars on the hearts and psyche of the children that they love through their handling of issues with their partners. If we truly love our children, whether we’re still with their second parent or not, our love must be deep enough to not harbor bitterness for that individual even when they hurt us. We do not do it for them but for our children and ultimately, ourselves.

One of John Wooden’s most popular quotes says “The best thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother.” This also applies to mothers too, the best thing a mother can do for her children is to love their father.

This is not the passionate erotic love with a sexual angle commonly found between spouses but a deliberate sacrificial love that enables one look beyond the actions, inactions, words and misdeeds of one's partner. This is not love based on merit, but love given as an act of will that overlooks foolishness and excuses weakness. 
This does not mean that you become an enabler of bad behavior but that we leave the door open for our children to relate with their second main blood relative. It also means that we do not burden our children with our disappointment with the individual or relationship.

True love never dies but true love can be rejected. If your love was rejected, don’t let that make you so bitter you begin to speak ill of your spouse to your children. It is hard for pain not to overflow but it is harder for us to watch our children suffer because of mistakes we made by not checking the outpouring of our pain.

"Crying in the Rain" Photo by Alaric Hartsock on Unsplash

It is hard to smile when all you really want to do is cry. It is hard, but as a friend says, it is better to cry in the rain because then, no one can tell the difference. To shield our children from the problems in our relationships with their second parent, we must learn to dignify the messes our partners have made. When the hurt is so bad, we must learn to cry in the rain so that we can protect the innocence of our children and allow them to discover, if necessary, the truth we have shielded them from.

It is not an easy thing to do but we can definitely try for the love of our children, to love enough to not hate!

OASES OF HOPE

In the last five years, I have experienced the unbelievable, endured unimaginable disappointments and suffered mind-boggling betrayals. My life almost seemed like a desert of unending turmoil. Sometimes, flashes of suicidal thoughts passed through my mind but my Faith kept me.

Many times, I felt like not going on. I wanted to just give up, coil up on my bed and sleep without waking up until the situation passed. The road was rough and the journey seemed endless but somewhere along my way, I run into a smooth patch that gives me a breather.

https://taqplayer.info/beautiful-desert-oasis

These past years have brought many people and positions my way. In some parts of my journey, I have met those that have held my hands over rocky terrain, I have met those that carried me when it appeared I couldn’t go on and I have met those who cheered me on. With these, I sometimes wondered why they cared so much for so long. 

I have also met those that invested so quickly, so deeply and then divested themselves of me almost magically. With these ones, I have wondered what I did to deserve their abandonment and rejection. Then I’ve met those who wanted to remind me, just in case I forgot, that I was not good enough, that I had not done enough or that I was doing too much of a “good” thing. With these ones, I sometimes got very sad but then I remember that they didn’t bring me here. I also remind myself that they had no part in my past so they cannot determine my future.

The turmoil I have undergone these past five years has made me sensitive and very grateful for those moments of respite when I encounter people and events that refresh my soul. These are the oases of hope in my life. These are the instants that encourage me to keep my eyes on the bright future ahead no matter how dim it may seem now. These are the moments that come my way when my neck is bent in pain and they lift my head up and cause a smile to flit across my face, even if fleeting.

I thought that good people don’t go through such pain, so I lived my life trying to be good. Now I know that good is a relative term that can be argued. People can assume the worst about you and believe rumours without bothering to know the truth. I am good, so I say, but many have told me how bad I am and how deserving I am of the difficulties I have faced. Some have said this to my face and some to others behind my back.

But you know what? These are the ones that make the desert seem longer and I do not mind them because they make me appreciate my oases of hope even more.

These oases show up when I least expect it and they tide me over the tough terrains. They are the ones who have kept me sane these past five years.

My oases of hope

braced me when I was broken

refreshed me when I was parched

filled me when I was empty

carried me when I couldn’t go on

comforted me when sorrow took me over

reminded me that trials and tribulation won’t last forever

encouraged me to believe in a better tomorrow

My oases of hope keep me in Faith