So many things passed without noting – the end of my first serious relationship. The end of slumber parties. The end of being the first to wake up Christmas morning. The end of hating mushrooms and lettuce. The end of nose picking (thank god). The end of overalls embellished with farm animals (though that’s one I can see coming back someday soon…). The end of a horse obsession. The end of “five more bites” and my daddy singing me to sleep at night. The end of public school. The end of bedtime.
It isn’t all endings, of course. In the last ten years I left and returned to Alaska. I learned to cook, drive, sew, knit, use a credit card, bathe a dog, flip a breaker, insulate windows, can food, hit on someone without creeping them out (OK, sort of), mourn a loss, do yoga, live on my own. I met someone I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with – I didn’t (whew). I graduated from high school. I had my first “real” job. I applied to the school of my dreams and didn’t even get wait-listed, and ended up exactly where I was supposed to be in spite of that. I made best friends, and lost them. I found religion and lost that, too. I befriended my parents. I befriended myself.
It feels as though I am being given a gift by time and the modern calendar. By marking the beginning of a new decade at this point in my life, it’s as though I am being permitted to close a door behind me. Not locking it, but containing all of the pieces and lessons and inspirations of that last growing period, so I can make the best of this one. The learning never stops, of course, but maybe I can use this fresh start of sorts to be more the person I want to be, to be happier, to become more whole.
Then again, maybe I can just work on keeping up with laundry and dishes and homework and work work and working a little more me-time, family-time and dream-time in around the edges. I’ve been feeling so tied-down lately, it’s good to remember not only how much I’ve grown up, but how young I am and how much I have both behind and ahead of me, how lucky I am to know the people I do and be the places I am.
Man, I’m looking forward to the next ten years.
Goodnight, Irene 