||[25 Feb 2008|01:37am]
I know I should have been writing, because I had a lot to say, but it's all gone now. It's been a hectic two weeks, I can tell you that.
I have a lot of work to do, and I have to do it well, because I must get excellent grades this term.
My Babcia (that would be my Dad's Mom) is sick and in the hospital. They have found a spot on her lung, which I assume means cancer (although nobody actually uses that term, they only say "spot on lung".) Anyway, I assume lung cancer is fast, and so that is sad. But I haven't seen her for 12 years. So although I should be concerned with how much time she has left to spend with me, what I am most concerned about is how much time I have left to decide if I ever want to see her again. This is a hard decision.
I also feel extremely guilty that I feel this way. I feel awful for my Dad, but also irritated that he has been negligent with her, and that he didn't impose a relationship between my Babcia and I. Perhaps he should have; this distance wouldn't have grown and I wouldn't feel so confused now. But that isn't what happened, so I need to accept that and move on. And anyway, at the time it just seemed to make sense: it was right after my Dziadzia passed away (I liked him a lot) and my Babcia had some sort of breakdown, and I haven't seen her since. I can't remember why exactly this estrangement started, but I remember when, and I remember being on my Mom's side about the whole ordeal. Now, of course, in my postmodern way of thinking, I don't think there is any actual truth; no side is the right side to be on, and so the possibility that I made the wrong decision by refusing to decide whether or not to see my Babcia isn't any more right than the decision I could have made to, in fact, maintain a semblance of relationship.
And honestly, I think there are a lot of greys, but indecision is in itself a decision. The decision not to act (or, the lack of decision that leads to inaction) still instigates consequences. I am most familiar with the process of default negative decision - inaction through indecision - but even that is, I think, a stand of some sort.
So, then, where do I stand in this whole situation? What do I stand to lose either way? Or perhaps that is negative thinking, maybe I should weigh the gains instead. What do I stand to gain either way? Will never seeing her again haunt for the rest of my days? Will going back on the pact I made with myself at 14 forever hang in front of my head like a dangling carrot, telling me to bite bite bite even when the food is ultimately unattainable? Because what, precisely, do I serve to accomplish through the reestablishment of connection? She most likely won't remember me anyway, so it isn't about her. But I suppose I always knew that; it is about me. As indeed everything that concerns me is about me, and everything that concerns you is about you. We are all inherently narcissistic in that sense; we are self-obsessed. But what else is to be expected? Perception is the be all and end all, anyway.
So let's return to the task at hand - I have a tremendous amount of work to do, and I am concerned that I will not do it well. Further, I have to deal with this impending doom of decision-making, which of course makes me anxious. I am a procrastinator; I would put off the rest of my life if I could.
Jeremy wants to go and visit his grandmother this week, which is only fair, I suppose, and I would like to see mine - the other one - and my grandpa, too. There is one apartment that I want to look at (although it will probably be gone by the time we call to look at it, or else we'll see it and it will be perfect, but it doesn't allow cats and I'll get cold feet anyway.)
And then there's the rest of my life. What if I don't get into my school of choice? What will I do then? What will become of the Massare? And, most importantly, what will I do with the time I have left? Because, ultimately, that is the decision we all have to make: if the future is uncertain, it is so in part because precisely how much future preceeds us is unknown. And that unknown is the worst part; it makes everything that comes before a gamble.
It would seem to me, then, that our options are as follows: either we a) indulge in immediate satisfaction (which, in my opinion, could potentially increase your risk of less time left) or we b) plan for a future that may evaporate in a moment when a speeding car comes veering out from your left and hits your driver's side too hard. A happy medium would seem the obvious solution, only one cannot exist, for each option essentially cancels out even a fraction of the other. In order to fully engage in indulgence, one cannot rely on security. And the reliance on security for the future clearly eliminates most, if not all, immediate indulgences. So you tell me - what should we do? What do you do? (And if what you do is try not to think about it, you're moving steadily into inaction, which returns to my earlier point.)
So, what now?
Well, for me, a bit of reading followed by a bit of sleeping followed by more reading and a significant amount of writing. It would seem I am endorsing Life Option B - that is, I am banking on having more, rather than less, time left. And if it turns out I am wrong? Well, what then?
If it's all ultimately a gamble, indifference poses a false option, one that leads to inaction, which, of course, results in ramifications of a different sort.
So here it is: I'm stuck here, for a time, anyway, and these questions are or course unanswerable. So then answer me this: wouldn't we be better off with a lot less time? Because it seems to me that an abundance of time is what led to all these questions in the first place.
As for me and my dilemma, I'll let you know when I've come to a decision. Right now, however, I am going to join the ranks of avoidance - at least for the time being - and read.