I visited my Dad in the hospital yesterday (yes, he's still there) and was watching him while he slept and trying to wrap my head around his situation.
Yes, he is alive...but really, he is not "living". The closest he comes to living is watching basketball games on his tv, working with PT on walking again, and visits from his family. It really got me thinking about what it means to be alive, and what our lives mean.
Everyone's definition of living is different, but I do know that when you are not living, you feel it. You feel depressed and a constant need for something, although you may not know what. Maybe you eat to fill the void, or drink... pick your poison (I'm an eater).
For my Dad, living is playing the guitar, eating out with his wife, doing projects around his house, spending time with his kids and grandkids, seeing movies, and going to concerts. So no, he is not living right now.
My definition for living is just coming to light. I know that I'm close because the weight from all my non-living eating has fallen off without a second thought. I feel fulfilled, I feel hopeful, I feel ALIVE. It all makes sense now.
Living for me is seeing my friends and laughing our asses off. It's seeing as many movies as possible, either at home on my couch with my pj's on or at a theater with others. It's trying new foods and cuisines. It's rocking my two year old to sleep and kissing her precious face a million times while she's being still, having a funny conversation with my smart 10 year old son, or fixing my beautiful 6 year old daughter's hair. It's making my bed every morning because it brings me joy to see the gorgeous bedspread I bought just for ME. It's going out for drinks and being the first one out on the dancefloor because I LOVE to dance. It's seeing concerts and singing along at the top of my lungs. It's challenging myself to try new things with my business. It's meeting new people and making new friendships. It's laying on my living room floor with a hundred pillows and blankets and laughing at movies with my kids. It's trying things I would have never tried before, just to have the experience. It's living with no regrets.
Why did it take splitting with my husband for me to figure all of this out? I'm not sure...maybe it's the shared custody and thus mandatory "me" time. Maybe I was always so worried about keeping him happy that I didn't worry about myself enough. Whatever it was, I'm so grateful for it. I wouldn't trade my life now for the one I had before in a million years. It's like my eyes have been opened wide for the first time ever and this life was under my nose all along just waiting for me. This is the meaning of life...for me.
And if it gets better in the future with a partner to share all of this with me? Great. But if this is the way it is forever...well..I'm just fine with that!