being and sitting with
i am sitting with heavy things lately.
i will probably never be a parent, at least not in a traditional sense. i will not watch my children grow from tiny seeds to human beings with their own personalities, experiences, emotions. it is like this room in the house of being human that is inaccessible to me, locked from the inside.
after spending the whole of my conscious life planning for being a parent, it feels very strange.
i am also fairly certain i have multiple sclerosis which is odd in that it will be a relief to know with certainty, finally, and also in that it connects me with my matrilineal line on a deeper level. so i lose the connection in not being maternal myself but it carries through in this degenerative family disease.
what does it mean, to be human? to find and lose connection? i don't know why i work so hard to find meaning in everything.