Enough

Nobody wants to leave this earth without having a meaningful life. One that fulfilled a hope, a dream or a purpose. One that mattered.

Even more than that, we want to leave behind a legacy; to have made an impact that lasts long after we're gone. For some, that's by living in the hearts and souls of their children and their children after them. For some it is much more.

For me, it's a struggle of self. I bounce between feeling lost and alone to trusting there is something amazing about to happen. As the only child in a childless home, I'm faced with the mortality of my existence on a daily basis.

When it comes to being a mother, in one breath I envy them - all of them; their purpose so obviously defined and the reward so easily included while in the next breath, I feel sorry for those who don't look outside of their own children to build a legacy. Successful and happy children are the product of the job we are required to do in answer to a blessing from God, not something above and beyond as a result of realizing the true gift we were given to share with the world.  But who am I to decide or judge or even have an opinion here.

In the midst of all this philosophizing, my husband and I went to see "The Fault in Our Stars", the story of two teenagers who met at a cancer support group and share a love that sweeps them on a miraculous, heart-wrenching and soul-searching journey.

When the curtain closed, both of us were spent. We sat there stunned and wrapped in our own thoughts. Long after the credits rolled, we were still there. Then Todd spoke. And as he always does, he told me how much he loves me and while he doesn't show it much, he told me about how he smiles and is overwhelmed sometimes when I'm not looking.  Wow.

And me?  I was struck with the realization that in all my searching and giving up, in bouncing back and falling down again, I've ignored the obvious. That my life does matter. It may not matter wide...but it matters deep. It matters to him.

I heard Todd's voice in that of Hazel when she tries to impress the fact to Gus that he has had a major impact on other people. "I just want to be enough for you, but I never can be. This can never be enough for you. But this is all you get. You get me, and your family and this world. This is your life. And it should be enough."

I may not have the kind of life that inspires a book-turned-movie and I may never get a life full of a child's laughter and tears, of growing up and growing old - but I have him. He matters to me and for some reason and somehow, he sees me as important and enough.

I love this man.