Let me preface this post with two facts.
1. I do believe (in a round-about way) that everything DOES happen for a reason.
2. My mother is kind-hearted, compassionate woman whom I love dearly.
Almost 2 years ago, I was in a long-term relationship that ended abruptly and threw my life into a complete tailspin. When the end came I was completely unprepared. Although in retrospect I should have known that this relationship would meet such a fate. I ended up, at the age of 30, moving into my parents’ home with a fairly substantial debt and almost nothing save for the clothes in my closet.
I had lost almost everything I held dear (my home, my partner, my puppies (temporarily), my self-confidence, my faith, my pride, my ability to get out of bed, my appetite…you get the idea). My parents were very gracious and supportive and offered to do whatever it took to get me back on my feet (literally and figuratively). I spent about 3 months living there during which time I had a 2 hour commute (each way) to work that left my already-exhausted self in a state of complete delirium and depression.
My mother, bless her heart, tried to console me as best she could. But consolation was not what I wanted. I wanted my life back. And barring that, I wanted plenty of alcohol. My mother has been married to my Father for going on 40 years, since the tender age of 17. Not only that, but they are still very much in love and still enjoy each other’s company! Imagine! My point here is that my mother is a woman who has never been dumped. Can you even fathom that? So her pep talks were a little hard to stomach to say the least.
She would try to lift my subterranean spirits by pointing out all of the worse situations I could be in. I could be missing limbs. I could have been born in a third world country. I could be dead. I could be a street urchin. I could have been 40 instead of 30 when this happened. We could have had a house and kids to deal with. I could not have had parents or anywhere to go. That last one I’ll give her. I was very grateful for that.
And she would dole out age-old words of wisdom like “It could be worse” or “It's always darkest just before the dawn” or, my favourite, “Jacquie, everything happens for a reason”. And she wasn’t the only one that kept telling me that everything happens for a reason. That phrase was like a cancer that had spread to everyone within a 2 mile radius of my broken heart.
And, as previously stated, I do in some ways believe this to be true. But that is an epiphany that can only be reached when the bleeding stops and the fog lifts. When you make it to the other side, find yourself in a beautiful place, and think to yourself, I wouldn’t be in this situation if I hadn’t gone through ________. But when you’re smack dab in the middle of the muck you just don’t need to hear that you are there for “a reason.”
I truly appreciated both of my parents for their support. And I loved all the hugs, the home-cooked meals, and the effort that was put into my recovery. But on the 6895th repetition of “Jacquie, Everything happens for a reason” I lost it. I countered back with this.
“Oh yeah? Let’s say that’s true. Let’s say that there is a reason for all of this. But what if the reason that this is happening is because the Universe or God or The Powers that Be randomly decided that I should suffer and be miserable, alone, and childless for the rest of my life!? What if some omnipotent figure drew my name out of a cosmic hat in some sadistic lottery of pain and this is my prize?! Tell her what she’s won Bob! A 3-month stay in her parent’s basement and a heart so packed with grief that it just might explode right out of her chest! What if the "reason" isn’t a good one? What if it’s a totally arbitrary, stupid, shitty reason!?’
Mom got quiet and her mouth dropped open.
“Well…now you’re just being ridiculous.”
“I know! But what if this magical “reason”
is ridiculous?”
“That just…there’s no…you can’t…NO.”
“But what if it is?”
“It’s not.”
“But it could be.”
“It’s just not.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I do”.
Silence.
My mother did stop telling me that everything happens for a reason. But later, when my life turned around and good things started happening again she would say slyly “See? Everything happens for a reason!”
And she’s pretty adorable when she’s right.
But the lesson here kids, is try to avoid using this dreaded phrase until after your broken-hearted, downtrodden friend/sibling/child/parent is at least on solid food.
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