When I was young, I thought that if I were alive at this age, that things would be so different than they are. If I saw this back then, I’d think at that is some kind of a joke. I had always seen myself as the healthy strong one. I would have seen myself as working a very long time- after all with the kids out of the house what would i have envisioned myself doing with all that time? Just as I grown up to see women with no husband as being sad people. I didn’t see them as unworthy of that kind of love. I just thought how sad it all seemed. I couldn’t imagine being alone like that. Now women without a husband but with children, they didn’t seem as sad or lonely to me. After all they had known that kind of love- romance. As in my naeivity I believed the conception of a child most assuredly had to have happened out of a dear romantic love. But to have neither children living with her ,nor a spouse, well that just seemed so empty . When in fact it was a life quite fully lived. Of course that still in and of itself feels lonely… the lived part. It means it’s past, behind her…behind me. Ah well then surely I’d take every advantage to spend my life in a purposeful fashion. Perhaps as a nurse in a mission somewhere or in the Peace Corp. Or maybe being active politically. I could have seen me taking on a had been a colorful career but by many it would seems so cause. I could see me in an adventure with my fellow Green Peace or on the ranges in the west striking blows to help the wild remain as such with the majestic horses to roam freely. At the very least I’d have an animal sanctuary, wouldn’t I? Okay well then if not that, wouldn’t I be living at the shore finding my soul enriched by the sights and sounds I had begun my adult life ? I’d have maintained my dear friends from that time and be spending time making music with my friends and enjoying the Jersey Pines and the sea shorel Yet here i was a state away- not to work in a particular facility or in a specialty or in cancer research as I once thought I would… a professional goal. No I never did attain that. No here I sit writing a blog I can barely see My body fights with me at every turn. I have been put out to pasture professionally.I am of no more use – as who wants a nurse who tires out so quickly, whose memory is in such question, who can barely see a syringe let alone read it, Who needs a nurse who cannot walk for any distance- whose best hurry speed is something surely a 4 yrs old could out run? No I had to let go of those things as time took charge wherever allowed. Had I not fought hard enough. I tried to stay in the field as I felt the onslaught for decades of what would one day be running inch by inch matching and over taking my strides. I had given it a run- a good run. By many standards it was insufficient and unfocused, undriven..too given to the winds to channel it at will. And it was, in terms of keeping it in the place of my life’s work. I had let that go for a family and music and lost focus financially. So here I am in the remnants of a lifetime of intended accomplishment. Had I saved anyone? Had I made a difference at all/ These are the questions I wrestle with in looking back.
I never was the kind of mother women stood in awe of wondering how they juggled it all and had raised super children. I hadn’t given them the childhood they deserved to have had. And I was so fortunate to have had children so smart in and of themselves that academically they carried themselves to where they felt compelled. I have a beautiful granddaughter who I rarely see- what with the distance and my no longer able to drive. (That part makes me angry.)
My husband’s kids have grown up in the ways they deemed best as grown kids do. They both have beautiful children we rarely see- we don’t truly know. This I feel has been a sad failure on my part- to not have been more of a part of their lives.
The great novel will in all likelihood not be written by this gal. I would be lucky to read it- written by anyone. These hands no longer cooperating and I I am not inclined to just sit back content that I have taken the mare up in the pasture as high as she was meant to travel. I won’t believe this race is yet run. I refuse to believe there is no more than this already. It isn’t the length. It is though the fact that with more time left i will not see it as having been lived in its entirety- that I should just sit and wait for death’s cold hand to guide me on. NO that is not how I will end this life’s journey. I may stumble and fall alot. I may have to rely on wheels more than I care to- but I am not signing off. Not this life- not on my watch. SO if it may hold enough meaning for you to want to go along then be swift, we’ve not a moment to spare!!