As a daughter of the ’70s I grew up bombarded by the bra-burning, you’ve come a long way baby, women’s liberation breaking the glass ceiling message. This was particularly confusing for me as my life goals were to become a wife and a mom. I had no desire to rule the world. I just wanted to feather my nest.
Cooking, crafts, decorating, and nurturing children were in the forefront of my mind. I choose technical school over college and learned the skills necessary to be a certified medical assistant, striving to learn all that I could about the health and care of children. I became singularly focused on working for a pediatrician.
Jump Into The Deep
I married the first man who came along, moved half way across the country. At twenty, marrying an architect seemed like the logical next step in my life plan.
I was just humming down life’s superhighway. Then reality hit me upside the head and the lessons of life began in earnest. All of the particulars of this period of my life are like dust bunnies under the bed. They are the residue of life, but it’s just best to sweep them up and throw them away.
I worked for pediatricians, moved to the big city of Houston, and then got a divorce. Never did have any kids. By thirty I had forgotten my childhood dreams and was focused on paying bills and fighting the lonely weekends of being single. Having married so young I still had lots of growing up to do and the three years I spent as a single woman helped open my eyes to all the world had to offer. Some good. Lots that wasn’t so good. But I survived because the good Lord always had me in the palm of his hands.
A second marriage provided me with the child I never had; I poured my all into both father and daughter. Fast forward to today: thirty years later I have that husband, daughter and son-in-law, three granddaughters and still living in the same home. I’ve had more stability during these years than in all my growing up, yet I still yearn for something more. Something different. There is something still unfulfilled, and, until yesterday, I had no idea what it was.
I spend so much time looking for the perfect house, the perfect life, all while ignoring what I have right in front of me. I have everything I need. Why have I been blinded? Maybe it just wasn’t time to see what had been here all along.
Until Next Time