I Should Have Been a Wedding Planner.........
I have learned even close friends often critique with razors.
My life at age 43 is a series of incompletes. Academically, an incomplete that is unresolved eventually evolves into an F on your transcript, so in a way I guess you could say I am failing life, or certainly straying from the syllabus. I am fairly content with this until I am forced to spread the entire raw contents of my life out on the table for review – never married, no children, old car, poor performance on domestic skills, too much sun exposure in the 80's, preferring to spend Friday nights alone with a movie and take out, selfish with my time, terrible at remembering birthdays, never quite enough money in the bank that I don't lie in bed deducting my daily expenditures, and most importantly, the lack of motivation to change these issues. Not a success story by today’s standards.
I immediately become defensive. I have friends, I exercise, I have a terrific family. I get more than my share of drama at work, a mortgage, some lousy neighbors to gripe about, and except for a little bout with breast cancer, pretty darn good health. Shouldn't this be enough I think?
It seems I missed a connection somewhere and have spent the last 20 years of my life stuck in an airport that I have now comfortably made my home. I have dreams of getting to that eventual destination, but for the life of me I cannot even decide which way is North and where to purchase the ticket. When I do occasionally make a goal to energize myself toward the promised land, I seem to gradually lose interest, watching the momentum slow, until the project is halted prematurely and eventually becomes yet another box of unfinished business stored in the garage. These days, my garage is overflowing. Another task for my supreme skill of procrastination.
I long to be the dynamic, confident, driven person my friends are. Working mothers who go back to school to add yet another college degree to their resume, "just in case." In case what? In case they have the time, energy and organizational skills to work two different kinds of jobs while they raise their family, keep up with laundry and teach Sunday School? They cannot fathom what I do with my free time. "Don't you ever get, well... bored?" one of them dared to finally ask me once. Or another once said after too much wine, "you have no idea what I could accomplish if had your life". "Hhhmmmm," I said in my typical non productive, non confrontational fashion.
Who should be embarrassed? Me? Because I have time to change the world and haven't gotten around to it yet? Or her, with the ambition to do so, despite her bad manners and insensitivity augmented by alcohol.
I am not certain what I will accomplish in this life, but as the curtain closes I know it will be my feat and done to my standards. It certainly will not hold enough merit for many, and my lack of confidence will keep me from posting it out in the open as I have learned even close friends often critique with razors. But it is my life; unhurried, often overcontemplated, constantly refining, and bittersweet.
My old adoring dog lies on the hard floor next to me. She chooses to be uncomfortable yet close by in place of snoring contentedly on her soft bed. She will look up occasionally when the sound of typing ceases, hoping for a small pat or acknowledgement of her devoted presence. One tiny gesture will be enough for her to lie there all night. I am reminded that I love, I am loved and am blessed. Isn't that enough?