This time two years ago I was finishing my baccalaureate degree in nursing. As a treat to myself I was going planning to meet a total stranger I had began corresponding with a few months earlier. Strangely, it was not because I put much stock in sparks flying between us but because I was bored with the routine of my life. Work, take care of my mother, my family, and school on constant repeat. It wasn’t living it was placing one foot in front of the other.
It’s my greatest fear, falling into a routine until one day I wake up in the dusk of my life and realize I forgot to live.
So now here I am, approaching a year since my mother’s death, that total stranger is now my fiance and I and his two week old daughter anxiously await his arrival in the coming weeks. Before the year is out I will be a wife. At 35, I am a mother. I thought that was enough but as it all falls into place and the world around me grows quiet I hear the old familiar calling to shock the audience, keep the twist and turns coming. What will come next?
See, the truth is, there is only one rule to being me and to surviving my life. Don’t just survive it, don’t just make it through to finish. In order to keep my sanity I must constantly be changing, growing, experiencing, living.
My newest adventure will probably be motherhood. After a ton of pressure to be half the mother my mother was or my grandmothers were I just decided to toss the rule book and strike out alone. It makes everything a ton more fun and reminds me that it’s not about the destination. It never has been for me.