Time Warps

I have been thinking of a conversation I had with my sisters when I had just found out I was expecting my youngest son.

I was 37 years old at the time. Ancient. Prior to this new found discovery, I thought I was in the middle stages of raising my (then) youngest son who was 10 years old. My sisters came to visit me without the entanglements of children or husbands. It was just us girls sitting together reflecting on the moment I was in.

I was somewhat envious of my sisters' ability to pick up and go without dependants in tow. Here I was, about to become a new parent at the ripe old age of 37. I remember saying (something to the effect of) "I will be 50 years old before I can go somewhere without kids ... [we laughed] ... you guys will be 59 and 61! [the tone of our laughter changed as we reflected upon this reality]"

Needless to say, those years have come and gone. I have happily packed my bags and gone to my sisters, gone with my sisters and have spent a lot of time enjoying the company of my sisters despite our advancing ages.

The year I turned 50, was the year my middle son moved back home to save up for his eventual move out to his farm. I had a reliable adult on standby and he encouraged me to go out and live my life ("So when you start repeating your stories when you are old, they would be interesting ones").

I went back to school. I went to a dance competition. I joined Zumba and Belly Fit classes. I started taking classes to become a group fitness instructor. I went on an Alaskan cruise. Those are the highlights that come to mind during those years of independence. I did this after I closed my daycare, so I could go back to school and changed my career path to one where I could actually book time off.

Then life took an unexpected turn. The career change was not ideal and I ended up reopening my daycare. With daycaring, came great responsibility. I was bookkeeping Saturdays. Spur of the moment was impossible. My life was not my own. Again. My wings were clipped and I was back to being a responsible stay-at-home adult. I finally completed Dad's families' book of memories during this time. But it all took a toll. I do not look back on those years with great fondness. I was exhausted. I endured.

Then I closed my daycare. Again. My wings regained their strength and I had room to be flexible, do and go places without dependants. But things were changing with Mom. This became the stage in my life I call: "So you THINK you can make plans, huh?!"

My second stint at being independent and carefree became a time I invested wisely. No regrets. I had employers who were incredibly supportive and gave me all the flexibility I needed to be where I wanted to be and go where I needed to go. It was a completely different version of the same phase of my life when I took my extravagant holidays.

Life has evolved once more. I am heavily invested in the work I do. Picking up and going places on the spur of the moment is not my reality. I recently took a broken up holiday to accommodate one of my jobs and upon my return, I felt like I never should have left. I have returned to the phase of life where I have great responsibilities. Not to my children but to my employers. My wings are sitting quietly at my side and I will endure.

Back to the beginning now ...

Twenty two years ago, I was looking at my life in fast forward mode. I was wishing my life and the life of my unborn child away so I could spread my wings and live an independent life. To wish for a life of independence at this stage of my life is to wish for the unthinkable. My ability to dream ... feels elusive to me.

It was only upon reflecting on this cyclical life I lead, I recognized the pattern, the yearning, the need for time to pass and the eventual reality that my independence will come. We don't know what price we must pay for our independence. There may be times we get what we wish for but long for the days we wished away.

I am trying to appreciate the moment I am in without wishing it away. I have one eye on an eventual, partial retirement while the other eye is firmly gripped in reality. Be careful what you wish for.

Sitting with all of my siblings a short while ago, we again had a moment of reflecting where we all would be twenty years from how. There was a thoughtful, reflective pause before I uttered to my oldest sister "You will be turning ninety!". We laughed. Heartily at first. Quietly in the afterglow.

My uncle just celebrated his 90th birthday. It was a time of gathering his siblings together to mark the occasion and breathe in the moments. The family had a few gatherings while he was visiting this summer and his friends and nearby family had a gathering on his actual birthday when he was settled back in at home. His brothers attended each and every one of these occasions.

As I look toward the future that is what I hope for as well. For us to gather and celebrate the moments when they are good and to walk along each other's side when the going gets tough. I don't want to wish this time away. I want to appreciate it ...