We plan and He laughs
I couldn't stop thinking forward...
It’s Friday afternoon and I am wrapping up what I feel has been a productive day at work. There’s this one task that’s been on my to-do list for about three weeks now. The thought of tackling it felt inundating, and I am not a procrastinator usually. I just couldn’t bring myself to it. So I started the day with some administrative tasks, some emails, some old R&B and Disney musical (Camp Rock, HSM, etc.) and I started reaching flow state, then decided to finally tackle it. I can’t explain what it is about those songs, but my pre-teen old self must have been locked-in when they came along. It was just some revisions on a project I had already put together, but I had to go back in for some additional revisions and structuring. And in a new work environment and culture that doesn’t have “hard” deadlines, your to-do list can feel so far even though it’s taped on the bottom corner of my desktop written on the yellow sticky note: “update files + directory”. Two hours, mainly uninterrupted (asides the switch of music to continue fitting my mood and getting up to get some fruit snacks). Two hours was all it took for the task to be complete. I even got to clean my desk after, triage through next week’s tasks before the Big Holidays come along and think about how I am going to spend my imposed “rest” season. Is it ever true rest though?
Kind of. Not really. Rest. I have spent the last years of my life prioritizing and choosing my rest and peace. Moving away to focus on me and my dreams. How funny to go from being an over-worked, over-tired person, to someone who’s set so many boundaries with herself to not go back into that dark place to simply be reminded that when life calls you, rest wanted or not, peace of mind or not, your body will revert back to its old ways and go on auto-pilot, navigate itself, and erase those parameters for you. And you start over-working, over-thinking, sleeping less, eating worse. At least if you let the call become an interruption, turning into a disruption .
A disruption alright. A shock even. “Your dad is in the hospital. We have to wait to find out what happened”. On my way to an appointment I was apprehending for myself, my grand-mother called to tell me he was in the hospital. It happened last year too. He was hospitalized then too. I wasn’t able to be show up physically that time but I showed up in ways that I knew I could. Calling and sending resources. He got better. But not showing up eats at you and you feel guilty because…what if he didn’t get better. And you thought he did. But not really. He stopped taking care of himself, going to appointments, and fell back into old comfortable habits. But this time, when I got this call, I dropped everything I was in the middle of, changed the trajectory of my day, and rushed home. I wasn’t in the same state when it happened. But trust me, from that call a 7:30 AM, I made it to his bedside before the 9PM hospital visit cutoff. A long day of rummaging through airports, trains, Lyfts ended up in tears at the sight of my father laying down on that bed. You do not forget images like that. He is fine now, back home, resting. But to be honest, it was a close call. I truly think he realized what happened this time. And I hope he won’t let it happen again. And for me, it’s many feelings. It’s complicated. The relationship between us became what we mended it to be. And even in the arguments we had because he does not take care of himself like he’s supposed to, I felt torn between being his daughter, and being THE daughter. The one that will take care of it. No matter how many boundaries I set. No matter how many walls. No matter how much rest and how much peace I want. THE daughter never stops caring.
My father’s incident happened days leading to Thanksgiving and frankly, I had planned for my week to go way differently. See the thing is I plan. I planned for what I was going to work on that week. See, I don’t really celebrate Thanksgiving because I did not grow up with that culture but I practice thankfulness and gratitude. That should count for something, right? I also planned to go visit my uncle in Arizona who had his fourth child earlier this year and spend Christmas with his family. I planned for events and next steps and for April, and for next winter, and for my thirtieth year, though I haven’t reached twenty-eight. I planned for when I’ll have kids, their names and for when I get married again. I planned and planned and planned. So well that my life map of next year is already categorized for 2026 and I haven’t even seen tomorrow. What a life. I gave myself deadlines and budgets and constraints.
Then He laughed. He laughed hard. God, you really threw me in for one. You scared me. You made me very upset. Angry. Scared. Because all I could do when it fell apart was to lean on You. not me. not my earthly father because he was the one that had to lean on me. You’re the only one that’s ever really there. Well there are others. But fully, wholly, unconditionally? It’s you. Am I crazy that after this incident, I felt like it was even hard to trust what I could plan, and for a bit even trust myself. Who am I if not the person I plan to be? This scare has changed many things for me in just two weeks that and all it left is uncertainty.
No harsh lessons or deep words today. What do you expect after a long work day. I just came here to journal and write that I must stop myself from imagining so far ahead and to plan my life so much. And maybe that’s why it has been so hard to tackle something that usually feels so easy. It is becoming difficult to consider what is to be done with urgency and what can just wait. Life is happening. And in the meantime, I have a hard time surrendering to that. Surrounding the faith is no longer enough. Are You teaching I have to also surrender…the life. My skin would typically crawl just at the thought of not being in control of the plan. But now, I must just accept that His plan is the only one..? You just want me to exist? Come on… You’re really doing a lot.
And yet. Here I am. I just exist. I just accept that I have to surrender it ALL or at least I am learning to. And no matter how uncomfortable the thought of it, there’s a quiet peace that is slowly creeping in, my body and mind acknowledging that maybe it’s His way is the way. He’s teaching me that it’s better to not be sad watching your father slowly aging, and existing enough in the now so he does not wilt. It’s surrender to think that that your mother is aging too and you’re not there to see it happen slowly but you’ll have no choice than to accept it drastically because the next time you see her, she will not look the same. I miss her and even though I talk to her everyday, I miss knowing what she looks like because I get to be there with her when I want. I miss my brother too. He started learning how to drive. I can surrender many things. But the thought of him not being the sweet baby with the milk bottle hanging from the side of his mouth while I dragged his carrier around the playground doing circles is something I am having difficulty surrendering. And yet. Here we are. And it’s the cycle of life. But it’s a cycle I never had to face so abruptly since what happened to my father. Life is changing. I have to age, not just grow. So I take roots in that fear and I just surrender.
I surrender the end of this work day because by the time I have found the words to finish this entry, it is almost time to head home. Cheers to the weekend. Amiright? I surrender and accept that I can do all that I need to do, but I can accept that I may not always want to or need to. And that’s fine too. I surrender that I cannot control the messages my grandma or whoever else will shout on the receiving end of the phone whilst I am sitting in the car, awaiting my appointment. “Your dad is in the hospital. We have to wait to find out what happened.” Waiting. Surrendering the wait. Mmh. It is for real a theme I guess. I simply surrender. To You.
And to end, Long Live Leek. Today they buried someone I knew and remembered from afar. And many that’s why all these feelings wanted to come out. Loss reminds you that we all are ephemeral. Today the world has lost many, and the other day, we could have lost others, but tomorrow, we will also gain some. There’s consolation in that. Some hope in meeting more people that will haunt us. Excuse me, I mean love us. I pray we all get to surrender and trust in Him to give us what life can be, at least for a little longer. Especially you, Dad!
Until later,
Mel