Dust to Dust

I'm learning to take ownership of my parents. When I think about what they have done for me in my life, I don't know how I could not be possessive of them.
It's not that I wasn't before. But as I distinctly feel myself maturing (maybe?) or "grow up", I find that I can't just go through life doing things because it feels right or necessary. I do it because I actually want to do it.

Yesterday I went shoe shopping with my roommate. I was in the clearance section when I overheard heard an conversation between a mom, a grandmom, and a granddaughter. The mom was looking at shoes, the grandmom was watching the little girl, and the little girl was playfully asking her mom which shoes her mom was going to buy. Moments later, the little girl was now crying because she had wandered off and both her mom and grandmom were scolding her.

I laughed, thinking how the little girl didn't realize her mom was only looking out for her. And her mom, who was looking for shoes for herself, was now sitting with her daughter, telling her why it was important to not wander off.

I wondered what that must have been like for my mom, back when I was younger and there were four of us to watch over. A simple outing to buy some new clothes could easily be capsized by four rambunctious siblings. I felt bad for all the times my mom might have been trying to look for something for herself, and instead had to stop what she was doing to break up a fight or find a hiding child.

Good Lord we're weird... Sorry, Mom.

I continued shopping when a woman excused herself, reaching for a pair of shoes just above my head. She was with her mother, an elderly lady. Helping her mother find the right type of shoe, the daughter carefully explained which brands were good, which were too expensive, which would be comfortable to walk in. The elderly woman had trouble walking and supported herself against her daughter. Again, I thought of my mom. When she reaches that age, I hope I'm there to help her buy shoes.

The elderly woman could barely speak, grasping slowly for air with each word she pronounced. The daughter spoke with patience and demonstrated shrewdness in her explanations. A sense of fear welled up within me. Would I find my mom to be a bother when she's that age? Would I get tired or anxious of having to deal with someone who is slow? Would I remember to respect her for who she is and what she has done for me? I hoped so.

It's because of my parents that I understand what it is to love and forgive. God knows how many times I've done something to utterly stupid to disrespect them. But when I think of how many times they have forgiven me, I better understand what it looks like to love and forgive someone, even if they deeply disappoint or anger you.

As I learn what it means to take possession of people that are dear to me, I hope I learn what it means to fully accept their love and forgiveness. I hope I can express that love by taking them shoe shopping in their old age and demonstrating to my daughter that I would drop everything I'm doing to make sure she's safe. I hope I find someone who wants to be possessive of my parents because of what he sees my parents have created in me. And I become possessive of his parents in the same way.

We are born into this world, so helpless and fragile, but a sight to be seen because we are newborn, created life. And we leave this world, so fragile and helpless, but someone to be cared for because we will soon only be remembered.