Moving forward

Several weeks have passed since my mother in law moved into a retirement community. She still refuses to be present in the process. There are days when I am discouraged by this, and other days I recognize that other than her address, life hasn't changed all that much. Despite our efforts to make life easier and ultimately happier for her, the power to move forward has always been in her control.

So many of my readers, family and friends have repeatedly reminded me that we did the right thing. Although that offers some comfort during this stressful time, it is hard to accept when her life speaks to the contrary. How do I move forward without leaving her behind?

A change of address is not necessarily a move forward. Our physical location may offer a temporary sense of comfort or discomfort, but the forward motion comes from a point in time when we decide it is okay to put one mental foot in front of the other. 

The anniversary of my father's death is quickly coming into view. My feet seem planted firmly. There are days when moving forward feels like leaving him behind. I can't do that, nor do I want to. After a year, I find myself no less connected to my Dad and hungering to talk to him about my work, my garden, the grandkids, even this difficult situation with my mother in law. 

We all find ways to stand still, afraid to move for fear of leaving behind a piece of ourselves we can't retrieve. Age has a way of forcing us to move forward. It makes no excuses. It does so without prejudice or malice. The motion is resolute, no turning back, only forward. 

I suppose, like my mother in law, we can blame the world around us and refuse to put one foot in front of the other. My Dad would chastise me for my grief. I saw him accept and move forward so many times, through cancer and heart disease, the death of all but one of his 8 siblings and finally the death of my brother. "This sucks," he would say and then somehow, he got up and moved forward. 

Moving forward doesn't always feel good so much as it is necessary. It doesn't mean leaving behind, but rather picking up and moving on. Today, I shared a cup of coffee with my Dad and I could hear him say "Just do it. That is an order." When my hard as nails, Marine Corps tried and blue father said those words, you knew your only choice was to move forward. 

What words give you forward motion on days you would rather stand still?

Images: flickr image by johnny