I visited my aunt after her surgery last week. I haven't seen her since my own surgery 5 years ago. It was good to catch up. Although talking about 47 years of enduring a marriage to a violent and lazy man can sure bring a person down. But what I did get was a sense of humans' capacity for patience, forgiveness, or at least tolerance, in the face of our imperfect lives.
We talked about my cousin, who I tend to write off as a pretty face and a party girl. Little did I know that she works seven days a week. Monday to Friday, leaving at 6 am to work in Brooklyn; coming home at 8 pm. Weekends, she works at her old job closer to home. All this to support her parents and her daughter. She also has 2 kids back home. I'm not sure if she sends money to them, but she probably does. So if she decides to spend her money going line dancing on weekends, she deserves it. Who am I to judge?
I left the hospital thinking what a spoiled brat I am. I realized what a lucky person I am. This after a week of second-guessing my decisions this year. I had started a new job last week. A job where I feel bored and unchallenged. How dare I complain that I have to get up at 545-6 am and be at work 10-12 hours a day, 3 days a week? I have Tuesdays off, and no weekends. I live alone. All I have to think about is what play/movie/musical I'm going to see next; what book I'm going to buy; what coffee or dessert I'm going to get; what DVD or Netflix series I should watch next. I should be more grateful for my life. If I get to sit around at work, and get paid for it, why should I complain? It's an abundance of riches.
