I just had an interesting short conversation with my niece through email. Which made me think of something. She’s in her early twenties and had done something yesterday that most people her age have done at one time or another (including myself) which has had her feeling a little worse for wear today. In our email exchange she mentioned that she was still working on being a grown up “because life is a constant work in progress”. (She’s a pretty smart girl.) I told her that we never stop being a work in progress. Which to be honest here folks, I think there are times in my life when I’ve forgotten that very fact. I also told her that I don’t know about everyone else, but I feel like I’m still waiting to grow up!
I know I’m grown. I’m 52 flipping years old, by golly. I’ve been through a hell of a lot. I can do what I damn well what to when I want to. Sometimes, just to prove it, I eat pie before my meal! But in some ways, I’m still feel like a kid. I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. Even though I’m a wife and a momma and a gramma — there is a folk artist in me and all kinds of other things. Things that fight against each other for space and time, for opportunity. I’ve been a caregiver, the one to call on and I’ve loved almost every minute of it. I can’t say I’d go back and change anything because I wouldn’t be me if I did. I would even change the bad stuff, but it would be really nice to know what I want to be when I grow up. It would also be nice to know that someday, I’ll feel like I am grown up.
Then again, maybe no one ever feels grown up. Do you feel grown up? Do you know what you want to be? Is this just part of the mystery of life? Am I nuts? I’m at the library. Maybe I should ask the librarian these questions.