I was going to write a totally different post today, but Life Happened and I decided I didn’t want to go there. (Had a great picture picked and everything, but it’s already Monday. I think we already know we’re on the skirmish line to a new week.)
Was browsing through the hub’s Flickr page and was caught by the above picture instead. I don’t know why bridges and intriguing roads always capture my attention, but they just do.
I love bridges.
Is it because they beckon one to cross, promise something different on the other side?
Or because they remove barriers to forward movement?
I’m going to go with the second one, because I like the idea of forward movement. It’s not just chickens who go to the other side.
Bridges create connections between places and people.
I know what you’re thinking, the hermit is talking about places.
I like places. I just have a hard time getting there. Lol
And let’s face it, building bridges between people can be harder than a hermit getting on a plane full of people.
As my sister and I have gone through my parents things, what really struck me was how very little I knew them as people. I probably knew my dad a bit more, because he was a born storyteller (I suspect he used his stories a bit like I do—as a way to hide extreme hermit-ness). My mom—well, I was her daughter. She was a stay-at-home mom and if you’d asked me, I’d have said I knew her really well.
She raised me, she shaped me, she scolded me, cried with me, rooted for me.
She was my mom.
But there was this person, this woman inside my mom, who lived most of her life out of my sight.
It shouldn’t be a world-shaking notion. In my own way, I am her. I am that person hidden from the sight of others—even those the closest to me—revealing a piece here to that person, and there to someone else. Wanting to be seen for who and what I really am (and not completely sure what that is even after all these years).
I can remember my mom looking at me with love, wisdom and resignation when she’d tell me, “You don’t understand, but someday you will.”
Today I understand.
Now I’m the one looking back across a…bridge…aware that my mom was right (I wonder if she’s looking over my shoulder right now and thinking, “Finally.” Lol), that no one can understand this side until they cross it for themselves.
All any of us can do is, as we move this this world, is know that there is more to see in everyone we meet, more to know. Even if we never know what that is, know it. Believe it.
No man is an island, Entire of itself…Any man’s death diminishes me, Because I am involved in mankind, And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee. John Donne
Have you ever had an aha moment of sudden awareness, a sudden clarity where you see someone that changes not just how you view them, but changes you?
I love comments so much that I pick a favorite to receive my monthly AnaBanana gift basket ($25 value). (And don’t forget that once a quarter I’ll be tossing in something fun from the Perilously Fun Shop!) Recipient is announced the first blog post of the new month.