a musing: how many roads
So the inevitable happened. Someone I'd really love to catch up with is on Facebook. And of course, while I am in the throes of, "Holy Cats!" I am, at the same time, burdened with this weird sense of... what? What's the word I'm looking for? Maybe it will come to me.
When I moved out of my Mom's house, I was very young. I was, in fact, only partway through grade 11. The group of friends I had at that time all seemed to have these wonderful families, their own bedrooms, bright futures ahead of them, and I always felt like I had to be grateful for their friendship, humbled by the fact they would be willing to waste one precious moment of their lives on me. We bowled a lot. And had sleepovers. And went to the dances together, And when I moved out, I wasn't invited to go bowling anymore. Or have sleepovers. Or to go to the dances. While everyone else was busy being 16, I was just busy - working full time, studying, doing homework. I really never had the time or energy to go bowling or have a sleepover or go to the dances anymore, but at least being invited would have been nice.
I often wondered what made them leave - did they push me away, or did I withdraw? Did their parents warn them to stay away from me? Whatever the case was, I changed schools for grade 12, because I felt ostracized. By that time I'd gotten involved with a real jerk of a boyfriend who temporarily ruined my life... then graduation, then work, then college and kids and marriage and mortages and divorce and remarriage and more babies and home renos and Green Drop spraying the thistle crop in my front lawn last week. I mean gosh, where did the time go? At the end of it all, the only thing I had left of my friendship with them was that I had picked up smoking, a legacy that has yet to end.
At the end of the day, I feel like I've done nothing right with my life and somehow have managed to get it right anyways. I love what I have, even though I took perhaps the darkest, most twisted road possible to get here. I've worked my ass off, I've cried, I've laughed, I've lost, I've gained, I've learned...
What have I learned?
Mostly, that after all these years, on a good day I'm perfectly content just hanging around abeing wonderwoman, and on a bad day, I still feel like that 13 year old kid who wanted nothing more than to be part of the 'in' crowd. How silly is that? I think the word I was looking for is 'awkward.'
When I moved out of my Mom's house, I was very young. I was, in fact, only partway through grade 11. The group of friends I had at that time all seemed to have these wonderful families, their own bedrooms, bright futures ahead of them, and I always felt like I had to be grateful for their friendship, humbled by the fact they would be willing to waste one precious moment of their lives on me. We bowled a lot. And had sleepovers. And went to the dances together, And when I moved out, I wasn't invited to go bowling anymore. Or have sleepovers. Or to go to the dances. While everyone else was busy being 16, I was just busy - working full time, studying, doing homework. I really never had the time or energy to go bowling or have a sleepover or go to the dances anymore, but at least being invited would have been nice.
I often wondered what made them leave - did they push me away, or did I withdraw? Did their parents warn them to stay away from me? Whatever the case was, I changed schools for grade 12, because I felt ostracized. By that time I'd gotten involved with a real jerk of a boyfriend who temporarily ruined my life... then graduation, then work, then college and kids and marriage and mortages and divorce and remarriage and more babies and home renos and Green Drop spraying the thistle crop in my front lawn last week. I mean gosh, where did the time go? At the end of it all, the only thing I had left of my friendship with them was that I had picked up smoking, a legacy that has yet to end.
At the end of the day, I feel like I've done nothing right with my life and somehow have managed to get it right anyways. I love what I have, even though I took perhaps the darkest, most twisted road possible to get here. I've worked my ass off, I've cried, I've laughed, I've lost, I've gained, I've learned...
What have I learned?
Mostly, that after all these years, on a good day I'm perfectly content just hanging around abeing wonderwoman, and on a bad day, I still feel like that 13 year old kid who wanted nothing more than to be part of the 'in' crowd. How silly is that? I think the word I was looking for is 'awkward.'
Comments
cheers!
andrea aka mi@smom
Oh yah... "What have I learned?"
You took a different road than your school friends. It's no surprise that you drifted apart.
Luck-schmuck. I've always been awkward. I don't think I'll ever have the good fortune of outgrowing it.
I made choices. I don't regret the path my life took, nor do I envy the people whose lives went smoothly and as planned. I'm grateful for every hardship I have endured and every windfall I have enjoyed. The person I am today, the people I know, the things I do wouldn't be possible if I hadn't chosen this winding road.
We all know that adage, "Life is a journey and not a destination." Whether we go the straight and narrow or climb all over hell's half acre with proverbial bombs strapped to our bodies we're all on our way from point a (birth) to point b (death) and we're all going to start and end in the same place, in some unfortunate cases right down to the diapers and drooling on ourselves. In the meantime, que cera, cera.
When given the option, I'm prone to take the scenic route. Though the roads may be bumpier and the valleys deeper and the mountains higher, I frankly wouldn't have it any other way.
i'm digging seeing your amazing photography again and wishing i had gotton in on some of those domestic arts gets togethers- are you still sewing your ass off?
andrea
We've passed through your neck of the woods 3 times this summer already, and every time it's been aty some revolting hour of the night. Perhaps later in the fall we should schedule another trip out that way - I think I could find about 3 people who wouldn't mind a visit from the friendly neighbourhood photographer, and probably a tag-along who wouldn't mind seeing you again...
How does mid-November look for you?
do you have a way to contact me or should i keep checking back?
-a