Don’t you ever wonder? Is it too late for some things? Too late to finish your degree, too late to buy that old house you wanted to rehab, have that third child, jump from an airplane, climb Mt Everest? I mean, there comes a time when we realize that we aren’t going to finish that degree, or skydive, even if George Bush Sr did it at 80.
I’ve been in this mode the past few days, and in some ways it makes my heart ache, because I didn’t finish my degree, or buy that old house to rehab. Don’t get me wrong, I live my life with gratitude, it’s just in the fabric of who I am. I will work hard and love my work, I will annoyingly look for the good in everything, I just have a hopeful disposition. Let’s call it faith, but even the faithful can wonder, and I would suggest should wonder. It’s okay to take stock.
As I reevaluate my life, and think about that old house with a deep, beautiful claw foot tub, stained glass windows, and two fire places with an English garden in the back, and oh yah, a pool. I realize, that we are probably not going to go that route, though, as other posts would attest, we have done quite a bit of rehabbing this 70s house and we love it. So much living and loving, fighting and even dying has taken place here, that it’s a living and breathing thing, this house. It’s true. Think about when you go back to your grandma’s house? Even though she’s gone it’s like the house still pulses with her being. At least for me, and I will immediately begin crying, and now of course, when I go there, I will miss my mom, and my aunts and uncles and… Well, they are there, and the pulse of life continues in the scents and the scenes and the feelings they evoke in my heart. So, how can I leave this place?
As for the degree in psychology, I mourn that, but in its place is a marriage and a family, and years taking care of the terminally ill and working in the medical field, and now in chocolate, and I can’t see that anything went awry, even though the “plan” didn’t work out as, well, planned.
I found a card from all my friends at Sherman Hospital when I left to work full-time at the chocolate shop. I was surprised to see sentiments like, “What will we do now that our therapist is leaving?” “You always listened and gave such wonderful advice, we will miss that.” “I will miss your smile and your energy, and how you make us feel…” At the time I read that, I didn’t think much of it, but now almost two decades later I see that maybe I didn’t finish my degree, but I had an impact in a way I hadn’t anticipated that I would on those around me. I’m so glad I saved that card with the familiar handwriting and good friends’ signatures. It reminds me that no education is wasted, and every passion we have will work for the greater good.
Yes, I may not have finished my degree, and I truly don’t want to start again now. I want to start something else. Maybe, I’ll start planning my first trip abroad with hubby, and find a mountain to climb or a ruin to explore, and stay in a place with a beautiful, deep claw foot tub and an English garden in back.