PERIPHERY OR EDGE

It’s amazing how I think I know the meaning of a word only to look it up and find while I thought it perfectly described what I was trying to say, that wasn’t the case.  

When I blogged about how depressed I was last September, I used the word periphery. When I looked up periphery just now, the first meaning is the perimeter of a circle or other closed curve. There are three additional meanings; however, none of them actually fit what I was trying to say, at least as I understand the meanings.

The other word would perhaps be edge, but again, when I look it up, it says, under the second edge listing, “1. a: to give an edge to b: to be on an edge of.” The “b” meaning was what I wanted as in, I’m living on the edge of the lives of family and friends.

I’ve pondered periphery since I used it months ago. When I was young and growing up, I was the center of so much. I was the eldest child, the first girl, and think I felt as though the world more or less revolved around me, my siblings notwithstanding.

Grown up, I married and believed implicitly I was my husband’s only focal point. I became a mother and was the center of my children’s lives for a long time. I was always surrounded by family and friends in each of these life stages.

The children grew up and left home, so once again I was my husband’s center even though I might have been willing to step aside. Being the focal point when you’re both in love is one thing, being older with serious illness issues is another. But we did say, “…for better or for worse….”

Over time after John’s death is when I began to see myself on the edge of relationships with family and friends. Initially, many kept in touch to make sure I was doing okay; and being the independent bitch I am, I, of course, assured them I was doing just fine. As time passed, however, for one reason or another, my presence in the lives of some people became fairly unimportant, or at least that’s how it seemed.

I realize my family members and my friends have lives of their own that require their time and attention. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. I know that any one of them would attend me if I only asked. I just hate to ask.

          Don’t get me wrong here, I’m not complaining. I’m just attempting to understand how and why the idea of being on the edge, or periphery if you will was never actually addressed or thought about during my younger years, at least by me. Now that I’ve aged to where my mom and grandma were in their lives, I do wish I’d understood this idea of being on the edge or periphery of lives and made a much better attempt to bring them closer.