Thoughts on the End of the World

I'm currently reading Lucifer's Hammer by Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle. It was published in 1977 (the year of my birth) and is about a comet that is heading toward Earth. One of the people who discovers the comet is named HamNer, but then someone mistakenly calls him HamMer and all of the sudden the comet is being known as Hammer and -- true to form when it looks like a comet may, in fact, hit the Earth -- all hell starts to break loose. It's very interesting. I'm not that far into it, but I'm fascinated already by the characters, commentary, and storyline. Good book.

In the book, it's entirely possible that the comet will NOT hit Earth. You can't really tell with comets because they move around and things (don't ask me to explain it, but it's explained in a very simple way in the book so I get it). Some people are not preparing at all and others are preparing in huge ways. And something else is also happening a bit -- a few characters are looking around at their loved ones and realizing that they really do love them. When all goes to hell, you start to appreciate what you have more than you did before.

This theme is working for me as I work on myself in 2012. Pretending that the world really IS ending in December has lit a fire under my a$$ that was totally not there before. In between fixing my back (which I would NOT do if the world was ending -- I'd just be all: "Give me the good drugs and f*ck it, I'm going to Hawaii!") and working, I've been spending almost all of my time on little projects. I've also spent extra time with my parents because I've needed their help. Ma was kind enough to do my laundry for me (saint). Pa has been taking out my garbage AND scooping my cat litter (saint). And both of them have been giving me extra hugs and emotional support as I go through this nightmare with my back. I am very grateful and humbled by their kindness. Ma is even letting me paint my tiny dollhouse at her house -- near the WHITE CARPET. That, my friends, is love.

So last night, as I prepared for the Dream Time, I took a brief moment to consider what I would do if the world really was ending -- if we suddenly got news about our very own Hammer. Where would I want to go? Who would I want to be with the most?

And you know what? I'm already here. And they are already with me. I wouldn't really want to go to Hawaii. I would want to go cozy up on my parents' couch and watch CNN with them -- Ma would insist on it. It would be her news-junkie heaven. And Pa could explain all of the astrophysics to me. And they have a generator. Bonus.

But seriously, I am happy here in Farmsville. I love being so close to my family. (Except for Dorothy & Co., Chicago Cousin, and Kira -- I've been trying to get all of them to Move Closer for a long time. Maybe some day.) It's exciting to me that I can get a last-minute phone call that all of the aunts and uncles and cousins are all meeting up in town for dinner, and would I like to go? YES! I love getting little invitations from Eagle's kids for just about every single holiday. Our family gets together and I get to pepper my aunts and uncles with questions about their lives, pasts, and old family stories. I've learned SO much more about my grandparents and our family's history in these last few years than I ever would have if I lived far away. And even if my parents weren't here, they all still would be. And there would also be all of my mother's and father's friends, who are all interesting and funny in their own ways. It's fun to hear about my parents having their coffee dates and lunches with their besties. I see them in a whole new way. They aren't just parents, they are friends to other people. I share them.

The other day when my mother told me that her father had kidney stones, I asked her why she hadn't told me this before. It hadn't dawned on her, she said. The only story I really hear about her father is his death -- fast and horrible from a heart attack. It's painful for Ma to talk about her father, so I try not to ask about him very often. I once found a photo of him and asked if I could have it. She said no, but she put it away. It hurt her too much to look at it. I was young, so I got all righteous with her and said if she wasn't going to display it that she should give it to me. Oh, the stupidity of youth. I am much older and wiser now, so I understand. I really do.

Ma doesn't have many stories with her father because he traveled all the time for work. When he came back, my Gran wanted him to take her out on dates (understandable) and go do things with her. As the youngest daughter in a very different era, my mother didn't demand attention from her father the way that I do now with Pa. Well, I don't demand, but you know what I mean. So, unfortunately, Ma doesn't have very many memories of spending time with her father or hearing his own stories or going to do special things with him. She recalls exactly one little fishing trip. That's the one she's mentioned a few times. Other memories are lost to time, or perhaps too personal or painful for her to share. It's OK. I have a lot of stories about her mother. Gran was more of a tour de force in our lives.

Anyway, all this to say that when it comes down to the end of the world, I'm where I want to be. I'm blessed to be creating friendships with my older family members and my parents. Sure, we have hiccups from time to time, but both of my parents have changed since I've moved home (and I have changed, too). We've learned how to navigate this life together as adult friends. I'm also creating these relationships with my aunts and uncles, who were always quite mysterious to me growing up. There was such a big divide between kids and adults back then. I was too busy playing with my girl cousins. Now, in their absence, I'm "playing" with their parents. They are very interesting people. I am blessed.

They have fantastic, interesting lives where they are and are perfectly happy, but I do feel a little sorry for my family members or long-lost friends that don't live here. They have no idea what they are missing out on (or maybe they do). They come in and out so fast that everything is compacted. When I used to visit from Oregon or Chicago, everything here annoyed me. It was too much, too quiet, too loud, too many events all crammed together. So I understand why it might not seem like a great place to live. But when you do live here, things look much different. There is a peace and serenity that comes with living in Farmsville that I haven't found anywhere else. And when I'm in my own 60s, I will have many stories about my father to remember. And my mother. And everyone else. For that, I am most thankful.

Right now, the sun is shining bright and melting the snow off of Farmhouse Villa. I can see birdies outside searching for food. Every so often, a car drives by. I'm looking forward to spring when I can garden with my mother and go fishing for hours by myself without a care in the world. I'm excited to lie in the grass reading and watch the farmers in the fields. And if there is a mystery comet out there somewhere? Come and get me. I will huddle up with the Blondersons, and we'll figure it all out together. It will be OK because after years and wandering and struggling and fighting against it, I'm finally home.