Sorrow and Joy
I was reading an article recently about Robin Roberts (sister of our very own anchor Sally-Ann Roberts) and was struck by this statement she made: “I have been mulling over how much more I have learned about myself through sorrow than through joy.”
Amen, sister.
I really think I was in some state of suspension for many years as I went through clone years of my 20s where I was trying to imitate what I had been raised on with television – get married, buy a home, get a job – and was not happy. Then in my 30s it was go out and travel (because I didn’t do this in my twenties), and then in my 40s it was about accumulate – I had found a job I could hang with, and a husband I was devoted to, and was accreting and accreting like a fast moving snowball – and then POP – mid 40s the ball started rolling back down hill but like Sisyphus I kept rolling it back up, and then it would roll down, and I’d roll it back up. And this went on for a very long time.
My 50s began and endured more sorrow than I have blog posts to write about and yes, there has been joy, but it’s the sorrow that has brought me here. And so it’s the sorrow that must get my gratitude.