Purpose

One of the most asked questions by humans on our planet and in our universe is: Why are we here?  What is the meaning of life?  What purpose do I serve in the vast scheme of things?  Even children ask this.  There is rarely a definitive answer.  

The brain is a marvelously complex machine that has brought us industry, technology, medical knowledge, and the power to help mankind in a general sense, but it is simply too limited in its capacity to understand the seemingly-impossible.  For as long as humans have lived on Earth, no one has really been able to answer what our purpose is.  Science uses facts and hypotheses; religion uses mysticism and faith.  Science tells us that we exist to propagate our species.  Religion tells us that we exist to serve God.  But for what earthly reason do we need to do either?

I'm talking in generalities here.  Let me make this more personal.  In a perfect world, we would have more money during the child-rearing years to provide a home, food, education, transportation, and all of the things it takes to raise children in a stable home.  In reality, most people don't have enough money to survive in a healthy way until the children are grown and the house is paid off, but they strive to do so.  I was/am one of those people.  I over-extended myself to provide my only child with things that she needed in order to fit in with her classmates.  At one point, I almost lost my car and my house because I wasn't paying attention.  I finally made it right, with help.  It took some Come to Jesus moments for me, and honestly, I'm not 100% sure how I managed those tough years, but I did.  Now, long-since retired, my house is paid off, I have more savings than ever in my life (which isn't all that much), and I have a little freedom.  What I did in those years was survive.  That was my purpose.  I wanted my child to have a home she could count on.  Our little bungalow wasn't/isn't much, but I have fought hard to keep it.  And then she grew up, got married, had kids, and moved away.  She and family have embraced a lifestyle that doesn't include a place for me.  And then the pandemic hit.

Although I talk to my daughter every day online, the only thing that has saved me from deep, deep depression is my daily dose of Zoloft and my grandchildren's visit last August.  I had convinced myself that I no longer had a purpose in life; couldn't walk much, couldn't stand for long, had breathing problems.  I had a deep-seated fear that I was never going to see my daughter again.  (That still haunts me when I close my eyes at night.)  Without her, what purpose do I have?  I'm not rich.  I can't do much.  Do I just sit here and take up space, breathing air that just gets exhaled with no fruition other than self-preservation?  

I know, I know...I am aware that there are things I CAN do.  They just have to be meaningful to ME relative to those I love.  I just need to know that the world isn't finished with me yet.