One of Us

“Someday, the light will shine like a sun through my skin and they will say, ‘what have you done with your life?’ And though there are many moments I think I will remember, in the end I will be proud to say I was one of us.” –Brian Andreas

Lucy gave me a necklace for Christmas—a chain with three hearts dangling from it. Each heart is different and they're all jumbled up together hanging from a single hook in the center of the necklace. Lucy says the hearts are her, Ben and me. The hearts represent us.

I love being a part of “us.” It is perhaps my most favorite thing in the world, the feeling of belonging—in a relationship, a team, a group, or a family. I've spent a lot of my life in the pursuit of “us” in its many forms, often in less-than-constructive ways. And very often in ways that were reactive instead of proactive.

Looking back from my 45-year-old vantage point, I see clearly that I've spent far too much of my life reacting. Reacting to misfortune, pain or loss—to life and whatever it has thrown at me—very often in the pursuit of that intoxicating feeling of belonging. That feeling of “us.” Living life reactively often left little time for thoughtful consideration of the choices before me and as a result I haven’t always been proud of those choices. There are exceptions of course, the most notable of which are immortalized in fake silver and crystal hearts dangling from a chain around my neck.

I was married twice before I married Ben and Lucy's father. (Did I mention the questionable choices? I'll wait for you to close your mouth if you are among those who did not know this tawdry detail about me.) But while I had always known I wanted to be a mother, I never once considered having children during those first two marriages. I knew I wasn't yet ready to be the kind of mother I wanted to be. I consider growing a human from a seed to a fully-grown adult to be the most awesome responsibility life has to offer. I waited to have children until I felt I was ready to parent them with intent and purpose because it matters to me what kind of people I turn loose on this world. So I work hard to remain proactive rather than reactive in the way I raise Ben and Lucy. To remain present in the "us" that is our family.

In the past year I lost two important places where “us” existed in my life. One a romantic relationship in which “us” had never felt so comfortable. The other a relationship with chosen family who will forever be family in our hearts, but with whom our feeling of “us” changed dramatically when we no longer shared a house. The loss of “us” in each of these relationships was profound and those losses occurring so close together was especially painful.

Even though I love the feeling of belonging, in its many forms, I’m learning I must allow for some changes within that feeling. No, Troy and I will never become buddies, go on ski trips together and talk about or respective sex-lives. That “us” is a painful loss, pure and simple. But perhaps there’s another form of “us” for our chosen family, and if so, maybe it’s time I let go of my pain and welcomed it.

As much as I’d like to think Ben, Lucy and I will always be jumbled up together like the hearts on my necklace, I know there will be many future forms of “us.” I hope I will be able to embrace each one without remorse for the “us” that has gone, but with fond memories and anticipation of the “us” that is yet to be. I’m certain this is what the Universe has been trying to instill in me lately. Thank goodness the Universe is a patient teacher.

Like nearly all my accessories, my treasured three-heart necklace is an inexpensive piece of costume jewelry, but I have a plan to secretly replace each plastic element with its genuine silver, pewter, gold or crystal counterpart. I’ll likely do it piece by piece over time and eventually I’ll have a necklace as genuine as the “us” who inspired it. The “us” that I will always treasure the most, no matter what form it might take.

And when the light shines like a sun through my skin at the end of my days, I will most certainly be proud to say, “I was one of us.”