The ampersand: a portent that something more is coming. A symbol whose entire purpose is to promise the sentence continues – joining or juxtaposing, complementing or contradicting. It’s presence necessitates an addition. A sentence cannot end with and, so the reader knows there will be more.
As I prepare to turn 53 in a few weeks, I’ve been thinking a lot about what sentences in my life still have room for an ampersand. What parts of my story need fleshing out – relationships? career? avocations? interests? – and which ones simply need a period and to start a new sentence instead?
It’s an interesting exercise and especially important if you’re prone to negative self-talk. Depression speaks to me in short, damning phrases. – I’m sad. I’m broken. This is not where I thought I’d be at 53. – But the ampersand is a powerful ally and challenges my limited thinking. For example, yes, I’m still sad, but I am sad & still getting things done. Some days are easier than others, but some days that’s a huge accomplishment. A year ago I would’ve said I’m broken. Full stop. But adding an & gives me room to acknowledge the hard work I’m doing to heal, so my sentence becomes “I am broken & finding ways to heal.”
The pendant (pictured) is an early birthday gift to myself. It’s the promise of more, even though I don’t know what that is just yet, and a reminder that my sentence is not complete, because it cannot end with and.
As much navel-gazing as this post implies, rest assured I’m putting my self-reflection to good use. With one son out of high school and another starting his junior year next week, there are lots of conversations about “the future” in my household. I’m learning how little they know about me and all the jobs and experiences I’ve had as an adult. As I share my eclectic resume and remind them mom wasn’t always a church secretary, I’m teaching them the power of adding an and to their sentence.
I never want them to feel stuck or stifled or trapped in a sentence that does not fully describe them. Degrees, careers, relationships – we talk about how none of them guarantee happiness; at the same time none of them should be your full sentence. I am more than my job. I am more than a mother or anyone’s other-half. I am more than all the things that led me to this point in life. My ands are many and are mine to choose.
So, I’d love to know, what part of your life needs an ampersand right now?