growing pains
July 29, 2011 § 2 Comments
As my children stretch their independence and their abilities extend toward self-reliance I find myself stuck in a place of transition; caught between the experiences we have outgrown and the unmarked space of our futures. When my daughter’s language skills first formed concise thoughts, she inquired: Mommy, what do you want to be when I grow up? My heart and head stumbled over the answer. In truth, I was so busy being my children’s mother I couldn’t imagine what else to be. Her question, formed in innocence and curiosity has followed me, tucked between my conscious and subconscious thoughts like an item on my to-do list: buy groceries, choose future career, finish the laundry.
I try to recall my childhood fantasies, but I have outgrown tiny tutus and tap shoes. I still hear the echo of teachers’ and my parents’ voices projecting me on various academic paths; titles I wish would resonate if only to know my place. Motherhood was a happy reprieve from committing to a career. With my daughter’s prompting and no clear answer, I find myself window shopping for the future.
Where others create careers, I found only interests. In college, my favorite space was a classroom; unique personalities and opinions challenging old theories and projecting new possibilities. Subject matter was secondary to the experience, but my favorite teachers pushed boundaries in conversations centered in English, Psychology, Sociology, and Philosophy. I wonder now if my liberal arts education could still hold the key to doors of opportunity promised over years of academic guidance.
I am happy here, in this moment as a mother. Still, I sometimes look ahead and feel the familiar panic of my youth as old questions revisit bearing uncertainty and insecurity. Shouldn’t I know what I want to be? I envy the uncluttered wisdom of youth; tiny people dressed in costumes clearly marking their future with dreams. Firefighters, teachers, doctors, scientists, and dancers confident in their childhood career placement. I wish for a simple answer and the ability to demonstrate the passion and conviction of owning a dream. To model for my children the drive and ambition, hard work and stamina of working tirelessly towards a gratifying sense of self outside our home. To know myself more completely, and for my children to see, the woman in the footsteps of their mother.
forget me not
February 4, 2011 § Leave a comment
As I began to scribble my stories, one character abided quietly in the margins.
In the beginning my husband was a classmate, our time together was limited to the space of a college English class. I was endeared by the undertones of kindness and love that were threaded in personal stories he shared, I noted his confidence and easy humor, but my attention was absorbed by classwork and multiple part-time jobs. Our class ended and we parted ways for the next two years, never to cross paths on the small, private campus we shared until one evening late in his Senior year.
Drawn away from my books by a phone call from a St. Patrick’s Day celebration I begrudgingly set my studies aside and made my way to the festivities. Slurring speech and green beer flowed around me while I kept an eye open for an opportunity to excuse myself. Then, a familiar face offered me a chair in a quiet corner and took a knee settling in to catch up on the years between an old class and that moment. I was happy to see him and our conversation was easy.
Months later, he was long graduated and , unbeknownst to me, traveling across numerous states to serve as a groomsman in former classmates’ weddings. With little more than a wish for friendship I sent a note to his home address listed in our college directory. After a spell I forgot about my note.
Then, out of the blue, he called. We slipped naturally into an ongoing, long distance conversation. We filled the distance with details of each other’s days. Notes and flowers punctuated our phone calls and I recognized there was something beautiful between us.
Still, I was entering my Senior year and not sure a relationship could grow in the demanding space of school work and an uncertain future. My concerns were balanced by his determination, patience and respect formed a foundation that supported all that we shared. We moved forward together and have ever since. The conversation is still easy, respect and patience constant companions.
scribblechic 