Limbo Life

Posted on Tuesday 15 April 2008

There is a moment, a second, a glimmer of a tiny bit of time that is so fleeting, you may not know it when it is yours to grasp. I am convinced that every person on this earth has this moment. If they are blessed, they know this moment, own it, understand it, and then grasp it as hard as they can, and they never let go. If they are both blessed and insightful, they know that these times sometimes come more than once in a lifetime, and they respect these times, each and every time.

If a person is cursed, this is the moment that taunts them, lulls them, and then smacks them square on the cheek, no matter how they turn it. If they are cursed, this is the moment that makes them wonder how far back they need to go in order to right all the wrongs they have wrought.

If a person straddles the world of limbo, they face both opportunity and a last chance–and in this limbo world, they know exactly what it means to teeter between being cursed and being adored, even when they know they don’t deserve the limbo that delivers naught. They know limbo never leads to anything completely good and, happily, nothing so very terrible. They know, however, that limbo never leads to a conclusive answer, which could potentially be better than a final answer, because at least you don’t know.

The boy I had hoped would remain a friend, is not. I learned this for once and for all on this night, his birthday, when I stopped by his restaurant to simply wish him well. The anger and hostility carefully cloaked in indifference, none of which I pretend to understand and all of which make me want to scream and sob, was all too prevalent, all too reminiscent of why we will never be friends again. At least I think that’s what is what. But that’s limbo for you. You never really know.

My daughter’s dog was very ill on this night. She has no money to pay for his medical expenses. Neither do I. But I do have a MasterCard with a so-so limit that I haven’t yet reached. My daughter’s dog lives tonight because I have a credit card that allows my daughter to save her dog tonight rather than wait for tomorrow, when it would have been too late. “I will pay you back, I swear,” she tells me. I tell her not to worry. Her dog is saved, right? No limbo about that.

Something is up at work that made me offer, without question, to work an extra shift tomorrow. This, even as I booked one too many private dinners this week. This, even though booking too many private dinners hosted by mostly loathsome characters is something I do every week. I can’t do it right. I usually do it wrong, but never enough wrong to be truly chastised for it. Only enough wrong to sense that what I do, the role I play, the sum total of what I accomplish is more wrong than right.

But I am doing my job as I think I should do it. So I just keep doing it. And as I do my job, I sink down further every day into the reality that I create more problems than more revenue will ever compensate for. Yeah, limbo sucks. But so does a very apparent here and now.

I miss my friends. I miss my kids. I miss so much. I miss it all. So very, very much.

But something I cannot define is still left undone here. Something I can almost feel, something I can almost see, but something I cannot quite make out, is hovering on a blurred horizon that no one–certainly not me–can decipher. Tears don’t wash the uncertainty away. Yet, fragile friendships forged only very recently cause tears to flow at the vague thought of unfulfilled closeness.

I am so done with the tears. I am so over the tears. And still the tears come.

In limbo, who the hell knows what is next? But you don’t ask that aloud, you don’t even think it. Because the answer might just be hell.

But that’s limbo for you. Who the hell knows?

10 Comments for 'Limbo Life'

  1.  
    Suz
    April 16, 2008 | 2:02 am
     

    I hear that, RG. I HEAR that. <sigh)

  2.  
    April 16, 2008 | 4:38 am
     

    But Limbo IS hell. It saps away your energy and your soul bit by bit. Even a “bad” decision is better than no decision, because once you make one choice, there will always be other choices to make. But if you never make a choice, then the world HAS come to an end.

  3.  
    April 16, 2008 | 7:28 am
     

    RG,

    Your instincts are good. Trust them.

    Your blessings are abundant — family and friends, health, a keen intellect, an insightful eye, and the writer’s perspective of understanding are just a few of them.

    Those blessings outweigh whatever small curses have you feeling like your life is limbo.

    Count your blessings and use them for all they are worth.

  4.  
    April 16, 2008 | 9:51 am
     

    My daughter’s dog was very ill on this night. She has no money to pay for his medical expenses. Neither do I. But I do have a MasterCard with a so-so limit that I haven’t yet reached. …I tell her not to worry. Her dog is saved, right?

    You are a wonderful woman. That was an incredibly giving, selfless act, and it’s humbling to know there are still people out there who are willing to do things like that.

  5.  
    CKasten
    April 16, 2008 | 4:15 pm
     

    ((((Hugs)))) Know I’m thinking about you and wishing you get through your limbo! There is always a light at the end of the tunnel, we may not believe so but eventually things work out how they are planned. Everything has a reason and everything happens for a reason, it’s up to us to find out why. Sometimes it takes a lifetime to get the answer though so don’t give up hope.

  6.  
    April 16, 2008 | 6:31 pm
     

    Thinking of all the things. We like to hear you talk, sorry I have not much productive to give back.

  7.  
    April 16, 2008 | 6:57 pm
     

    Too bad our respective limbos couldn’t be in closer locations. But that’s limbo for you, too, I suppose. Either way, I’m with you on this one. And yes, I agree that this is much left undone. With this, you just have to keep going.

  8.  
    Kris
    April 17, 2008 | 9:09 am
     

    I don’t comment often, but I read every day. You are in my thoughts as you work your way through what you are meant to do there. {{{hugs}}}

  9.  
    April 17, 2008 | 1:29 pm
     

    A mom your daughter can count on when it’s really important. Beautiful.

    A person who tries her best and continues to try, despite the feeling that things may get no better. Beautiful.

    A person who works an extra shift, to help make things work. Beautiful.

    A person who stays because something needs to be done. Beautiful.

    Yes, girl. You are beautiful!

  10.  
    April 24, 2008 | 1:59 am
     

    I’m with Jali on this one! =)
    I hope you daughter’s dog thrives..
    hey, I hope you do, too.

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