I've noticed a trend that when I am home alone at night, (meaning without Vic), I get very sentimental and take time to think about my life. I know my last blog was about my birthday, but honestly, getting older has been on the forefront of my mind these days. So let's talk about it, shall we?
It's hard to see yourself age. It's hard to let go of life dreams you once had. I know I've blogged about this before, but the first few years after Lucy died, I was obsessed with getting older. I just wanted to be 85 and near the end of my life. I envied old people so much. With such a wonderful reunion to look forward to on the other side, I didn't fear getting older. "They've made it! They endured to the end and they get to go home soon. I'm so jealous." I saw aging in a whole new light and didn't fear it like I had before.
But things have changed. It's been almost SEVEN years since Lucy's passing. SEVEN. YEARS. I don't even know what to do with that fact. My mind doesn't even know where to begin processing that. For the most part, I have fallen back into my old ways of thinking about aging--that I don't want to. I don't want to look older, I don't want to lose my pizazz and zip for life. I still want to fulfill my dream of performing on Broadway, traveling the world, going to grad school, singing with a band, writing a book. So many dreams.
I've been in a bit of a rut lately. I'm not depressed, but I'm feeling awfully BLAH. I was able to perform and attend a reunion at BYU for the Music/Dance/Theatre department that I graduated from. It was so much fun to be a college kid again for two days. All of my burdens vanished and I had constant fun chatting with old friends, making new ones, singing my heart out on stage, staying up late at parties. It was almost too good to be true. Ever since then, I've had a hard time adjusting back to my real life.
This is not to say that I would prefer a carefree life of nothing but socializing and partying, but when you are given a chance to go back in time and taste that again, it is awfully hard to set those heart-racing, exciting times aside and get down in the trenches with dishes and diapers again.
All these thoughts about what I want, what I've always dreamed of, and how to accept my aging self and do so gracefully, lead me to a memory of standing in Susan Hale's kitchen. Susan is a dear friend of ours in Park City who is busy raising 5 kids of her own. I was watching her make homemade bread in her kitchen one day a few years ago. We were talking about the challenges of parenthood and life in general when she turned to me and said, "There finally came a point in my life where I realized that instead of focusing on making my dreams come true, my job was to help others make their dreams come true." Of course she was referring mainly to her kids, and that thought has always stuck with me.
I don't ever plan on giving up entirely on my dreams or on improving myself, but I absolutely know that there can be great (if not GREATER) satisfaction in seeing my children's dreams come true than in chasing my own. So though I'm aging (like every living thing does), and though time is speeding by like a subway train, I am trying to accept and embrace this turning point--that my new dream is to make others' dreams come true.
These are the times, the dreams I want to remember...
(the video is long. I won't be offended if you don't watch it. But I know the grandparent's will love it. Also--Zoë might be too cute for you to handle so carry on).