Greener than what?

There is something about the saying, “the grass is always greener on the other side,” but is it really? Striving to be something different seems to be what people live for in today’s age. Our fascination with different cultures is almost an obsession. When another culture is brought to America we sometimes feel threatened, consciences and at times fascinated. Not everyone is happy where they are at in life and as long as we do not get stuck in a rut we should want to improve ourselves, get out of our boxes. Many look to these cultures, we visit them and believe these peoples’ lives are so easy or at least they seem to be at peace with themselves. We are a people always looking for something within ourselves. As we drift through life we cannot help but rage against our authority figures and as soon as we become adults we really just want someone to tell us what to do, where to go, how to do it. It is not so bad to have someone care for you. But do they really? What if you step back and realize they are just holding you back? After being so tired for so long, does one realize the person who is supposed to be taking care of you is using you, leaning on you, dominating you? By living in a small town one might realize that instead of leading you are really just joining the majority. Perhaps you find out that the majority is just controlling you. Is this what happens to slaves? Are they so scared to fight back that slavery sounds better than death? How do the boys and girls that leave home to go off to war seem so undisciplined that parents are scared to send them and let them go? Life is so full of questions and answers seem to blink on and off like lightning bugs.

One can see this in different countries. Look at India and the young adult population that is an imitation of American culture. We embrace differences and want to learn others cultures as more immigrants come here, the more intrigued we are. While at times we can become threatened by our differences and the cultures we brought here with us. For hundreds of years we see the offenses that were done to different cultures, nationalities. The Native Americans whose land and lives the early Americans took and then the atrocities that were done to them and the African Americans, all because they were different. We became so bad that in 1850 white people were entertained by White men who performed Blackface minstrel shows. Of course no one thought to actually put black actors and actresses in an actual comic show. What would the reaction be from people today if those shows were to premier on Prime Time? Certainly would the response would be different. We pity differences that seem lower than ourselves. The powerful or purposeful go to different countries to help, get their photos and stories and never look back without really seeing what is in front of them. We rage war on countries without the realization that our own country is falling apart. We are esteemed by other countries, the great big powerhouse. While homeless people flank the streets in front our own White House. Should we care about other countries and their need for water? What about our own that is starving, one paycheck away from being homeless that even their own state won’t help? Single mother who makes a couple of dollars over minimum wage, whose son works for the lowest salary rate, is deemed too rich to get State Aid. How is this possible? But to get it we are looked down on. So we just hide in our houses afraid to answer the phone while someone is digging a well or creating a school in a village. But that person who helped has left their mark, their name will be important to that school, village and person allowed to be helped with no backlash from society.

How else do we leave our mark? Everyone has titles, so far in my life I have lived through a majority such as baby, daughter, mother, wife, ex-wife, student, drop-out, college student, cashier, and librarian. A tombstone is not big enough for all these save for my name. Approaching the big “40” changes a person, makes them realize their life is possibly half-over. Children are soon to be off to college, husband kicked out, no longer, a willing partner. Is this all there is? As forty is just months away, so approaches a divorce, possibly seeing a home one thought they would grow old in sold to strangers, saying goodbye to babies you never thought would want to leave their mother’s arms, seeing and feeling the accomplishment of graduating. Should I stay or should I go. I know the light is there somewhere through this tunnel. But I am going to have to go through it alone. Courageously, blindly or expertly, is it really over or is this just the beginning of a new life. Can one march through a new adventure, new experience, possibly find the freedom to love again? To leave the memories behind or do you keep them? All the knickknacks that showed a life and family lived, crushed by an evil doer. Pictures they really do tell a different story as do smiles. Keep your head up, don’t let it get you down; know that the pain and depression are as bad as finding out you have cancer only this last longer. Dating, the mere mention of a bar is frightening, especially when size 8 jeans do not fit anymore. No one wants to be alone but they do want to feel liberated. Quotes and lyrics bring new ideas, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” why do I feel so weak? The sound of his voice to share a small town breaks a heart everywhere you go. How does one live in a four block town? You stay on one end and I will stay on the other? I want to flee, to search for freedom, my soul, my insight. But then my kids remind me of their lives, friends, school and home. They do not remember the life they had before we moved here, the beach, their cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents. How do you tell them these friends probably will just be people you used to know on social media in five to ten years? Instead we fight about a home as I look to the other grass and wonder is it really greener there?

At least the children are older, teenagers one to graduate high school in four years while the other graduated last year, finding out what life has to offer. Been there, done that rings true to the mind. Starting adult life as a single mother, dragging my son out with my friends, my parents hoping their wayward daughter comes to her senses. Was I just acting as a new young mother would? I was naïve not wanting to give up young adulthood. I wanted to flee my responsibilities. As if in a movie I dragged my unwilling child everywhere, beaches, restaurants, and friend’s houses. Until one day life just clicked, I grew up, time to take responsibility of my decisions. Embark on a new life, give my child a father, buy a house, move to a different state and now life comes full circle at the halfway point which is not necessarily a bad thing.