This evening I find myself in an astonishing situation. I have no schoolwork that I am required to do, and none that I desire to do. Having this much free time on my hands could be dangerous to myself and others, so I decided to do what I often used to do when I had this much time on my hands – write.
There are many things I could write about. For instance, many of my readers may be aware that my sister got married just two weeks ago and that I was a groomsman in that wedding. I could share my observations about that momentous, historic event, and I plan to. But the fact remains that I have yet to even write about it in my personal journal, and I am not ready yet to write an official history of that weekend here on this blog. And so I have decided to write about nothing in particular and many things in general, in the rich tradition of my “Random Ramblings” series, of which this happens to be the third volume.
My current situation (besides being notable for the astonishing amount of free time it contains at the moment) is one which I had not experienced in 20 years. To be more specific (for it is essential for accountants-in-training to be as specific as they can), I have not been in this position since April 3, 1989, when I was all of five years old. No, I am not sitting at the dining room table coloring in my ALF coloring book. Nor can the reader deduce from my statement that I am currently watching “Sesame Street” reruns and singing along with Cookie Monster (although I will probably have a similar ode to his in my heart for the chocolate I will in all likelihood be consuming tonight in front of the television).
On the contrary. What I mean is that, for the first time since April 3, 1989, I am a member of a three-person household. The next day my sister was born, transforming the residence into a four-person version of its former self. This condition persisted for more than two decades until November 1 of this year, when my afore-mentioned married sister found it painfully necessary to accompany a certain man to San Antonio – an inconvenient three hours away.
And so, ever since then, I sit for the most part alone, pursuing the weary, misunderstood life of an artist. Okay, so maybe it’s not connected with my being any kind of an artist, but that’s beside the point. It’s just not the same around here anymore, and I thought I was going to have a hard time with that. The first day was, honestly, pretty hard, but since then it hasn’t been so bad.
You see, I’ve learned a few things in my quarter-century here. Life has a funny way of not staying the same for long. Just when you start to get comfortable, it shifts on you, forcing you to look at it a little differently than you did yesterday. I used to struggle with this, but now I realize it’s part of life. But just because circumstances change, that doesn’t mean the greatest things in life have to change with them. Loved ones don’t leave your heart when they leave your home; the bond remains as secure as ever, and no amount of miles can stretch it beyond its power to hold. Love, friendship, and family, along with all the rich memories that go with them, never fade.
And there are advantages to life changes. If my sister never got married, there would never be the possibility of experiencing the joy of watching her and David’s relationship grow ever richer, or the thrill of seeing her one day give birth to my little nephew or niece (who, if they’re lucky, will look just like their uncle). This kind of change is, in the long run, for the better. That stage was only supposed to last about as long as it did, and I am thankful for it. My job as a big brother at home is now over, as is my job as a “chaperone” to my sister and her chosen mate (their subsequent marriage, as my fellow former chaperones would no doubt agree, leaves it to conjecture as to whether my job was actually successful or not). I will miss those times, but I can do nothing to bring them back, and eventually I will realize that I don’t really want to. My job now is to still be a good brother to my sister, a brother-in-law to her husband, a son to my parents, a friend to others. Those are important jobs, just as important as the ones I don’t have to fulfill any longer.
But there’s another angle. What about me, here, the older brother who’s still living at home with his parents after a quarter-century? My parents often joke that I will still be here at forty, like a deadbeat redneck in Arkansas. Still others, after my sister got married, said that it was “my turn”.
Neither is quite the case at the moment. For one thing, I am not even close to being forty yet, and if I play my cards like Jack Benny (who stopped counting birthdays after his 39th), I never will be. And for another, I am still a few semesters away from graduating college and getting, hopefully, my first job. And so I feel as if I’m hanging in a strange balance. I feel almost as I something weird happened at some point to make it so that I am still at home at 25 while my little sister is already married and moved out of town. And I also feel as if life is in the process of shifting for me as well as for her. This may be the time that I begin to branch out on my own and do things I’ve never done before, exploring new horizons I’ve never before ventured toward.
We all face such times in our lives. Do we embrace the change, whether it be slight or dramatic, trusting God to bring us His best? Or do we fail to see the opportunity inherent in life’s shifting landscape? It’s a hard thing sometimes. Change is certainly not my middle name (it’s actually Andrew if you were wondering). But it’s also no fun being miserable, and it’s far more worth it to try to find the good in everything. After all, God knows what He’s doing.
And so this weary, misunderstood artist sits at another crossroads. Where will the road lead? Who knows. But I have to admit – it still feels a little weird being a freeloader in an empty nest.
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