I have used pieces of Marcel Proust’s Questionnaire to help with fictional character development. But, since I am on a break from my current love story-in-progress and I’m already tired of writing about cancer, I thought I might turn some of Proust’s questions on myself.
Quick cancer update: Still a bit sore, tired of the alien-looking drains, as cancer-free as a person can be, working on stretching my T-rex arms. I’m not sure about the new boobs. They’re a bit like a fanny pack or… a boobie pack. Wow. That’s enough on the update.
This questionnaire will hopefully serve as a distraction in the coming months. I am also craving structure. Lists, calendars, daily prompts. I am all about ticking the boxes and maybe I will learn some things about myself.
Although, I am not off to a galloping start with this first one because the short answer is, “I have no idea.”
My greatest achievement.
The correct response is having and raising my children. They are three functioning human beings who appear to be happy more than they are not. They are occasionally kind and rarely cruel. All three of them can hold a job and know it is tacky to say, “fuck” out loud in a public place. Bonus, they know the words to The Devil Went Down to Georgia and can fake their way through Midnight Train to Georgia.
Done. Greatest achievement, right?
How can human beings entrusted to me for a brief bit of their lives be an achievement? They can’t, at least not for me. I have guided my children, loved them, and now I am an active audience member as they navigate their own lives. An honor, a joy, but not something I would consider an achievement.
I will be married twenty-seven years next month. Surely, that is an achievement. But, it too is human and Michael gets at least half the credit for continuing to look at me the way he does. The man has beautiful eyes. Honestly, I stay for the eyes. And the cooking, the laughter, and… I could go on for a while. Being married to Michael has been a challenge, a gift, but far more than an achievement.
So, what is my greatest achievement? I should know this one.
Maybe I could dodge the whole thing with, “I have yet to achieve my greatest achievement.” Eh, that sounds obnoxious.
Okay. I have one, but I reserve the right to change this in a future post when I am older, wiser, and cloaked in grandiose achievement.
For now, my greatest achievement has been protecting my silly heart.
Despite some yuck and a ton of good fortune, I am still connected. I am most proud that I continue to view the world, not from the perch of age-earned certainty, but through endless wonder and hard-earned joy. I am older but have managed to grow up only a little.
Yes, that is my final answer. My greatest achievement is holding on tight to my silly heart.
My thoughts from the laundry room. Get Eight Hours.