Lists to Contain My Dreams

I confess.

I am a closet list writer.

Friends, who know me well, know I absolutely despise making “to do lists.” Seems like such a waste of time, when I already know what needs to get done, so why should I write it down? For me, making a “to do list” does not help me organize my thoughts, it usually only muddles them. And if you know me, God knows I don’t need to muddle my thoughts any more than they already are!

However, back to my confession, I secretly love to make different types of lists. Some of my current lists include:

Songs to put on my IPod
Books to read
Blog Ideas
Movies to Watch
Countries to Visit Someday
Stories to Write
Things to tell (fill in a name)
Quotes to Remember
Things to Write in My Journal
Things to Learn to Do

Sometimes they are elaborate, and sometimes they are written on post it notes. Even in this electronic age, I still prefer to put pen to paper, all the while doodling on my lists. Many of the lists are only dreams for me, but putting them on paper makes them real.

Who needs a list to remind them what to do in a day? I need lists to contain my dreams.

Jane Eyre

“The human heart has hidden treasures,
In secret kept, in silence sealed;
The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,
Whose charms were broken if revealed.”

-Charlotte Bronte

Let What You Love, Be What You Do

Although I am biased, I think my daughter is the most beautiful girl in the world, and today, I watched her transform into a young lady just shy of princess status. Today is her junior year Homecoming dance, and her younger brother is attending for his freshman year.

Although I love fashion and clothes, my daughter was never overly interested in investing time into her appearance. I have always been thankful her concerns and focus are in other areas besides her beauty, and sometimes I think it even adds more to her attractiveness.

People tell her she should model since she has the height, figure and features to go into modeling as a career, and she politely tells them she isn't interested. Sometimes I secretly hope she will change her mind, but I believe in "Let what you love, be what you do." It is the only way she will live a fulfilled life.

So Homecoming is the day where I get to help her style herself into a a head turner and purchase classic rhinestone jewelry I will add to my collection. She politely smiles her beautiful smile and says "Thanks, Mom. Love you."

Learning to Dive

Last night I went to the high school swim meet, and watched my daughter swim on the varsity team.

When she was younger, I felt it was important to let her explore all the extracurricular activities she expressed interest in. I believed, foolishly, because she was my daughter, she would share many of the same interests as I. I had visions of her drawing, and creating, and being incredibly artistic. Where I had come up short, I believed she would surpass me.

Little did I know, that is not what fate would bring me.

Instead, I have the gift of a daughter who is uniquely, well, herself.

Before her freshman year in high school, she decided she wanted to join the high school swim team. I remember looking at her in disbelief, and thinking how can this be, she doesn't even know how to dive in a pool?

All her life, she has been an athlete. Basketball, soccer, cross-country, and even the painful experience of hurdles in track. She has an incredible pain tolerance, and once when she was playing capture the flag with her cross-country team mates, injured her toe, enough where it was twisted and pointed to the sky. Not a tear left her eyes. Yes, she is a an athlete.

Swimming in the lake has always been part of her life, but I never expected her to want to swim competitively. So with the cards stacked against her, she met with the high school coach, and I remember grimacing as I watched her learning how to dive. She joined the swim team, concerned with only improving her time, and seeing herself as her only competition.

Last night, two years have passed since I watched her learn how to dive. As I sat in the same stands, I watched her gracefully dive into the pool. It was beautiful, but even more beautiful was her looking up at me in the stands after the race; and as our eyes connected, we both smiled.

My daughter and I don't share the same talents, what we share is stronger.

Never Touching These Lips

A few weeks ago, I shared with a friend an amusing story about my youngest son...

"This morning, I took Benjamin to the doctor for his annual physical. He and I were talking after the appointment about vaccinations, and he wanted to know all the variations of Hepatitis. I explained to him Hepatitis A is usually caused by consuming contaminated fruits and vegetables, and before I could say any more....

He grabbed my arm, looked at me with a deadpan stare from those beautiful blue-gray eyes, raised his eyebrow, smirked, and said "Obviously, I don't have to worry about ever getting Hepatitis A." I laughed. "Don't worry, Mom. You don't have to worry about fruits and vegetables ever touching these lips." His timing is impeccable."

Yesterday, Benjamin and I were watching CNN and the news included a report about the fatal outbreak on food-borne illness involving cantaloupes. Those beautiful eyes caught my attention, and he said "I told you Mom, fruits and vegetables are never touching these lips."

I am so blessed to be his Mom.

Twisted Carpe Diem

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

-Robert Frost

What seems like a lifetime ago, in freshman honor's English, I was fortunate to have a wonderful English professor, Marge Boal. Her love of the written word inspired me, and I spent many non-classroom hours talking to her about life, love and language. She encouraged and challenged me, and our friendship grew. In my youth, I couldn't help but notice the wrinkles, yet I admired her zest for life. Sitting in her office, surrounded by endless stacks of books, I remember the day she shared with me her illness. She would die within two years.

I have carried her love of language with me for many years, and The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost was one of her favorite poems. I think it depends on where you are in life as to the interpretation of the words, but consistently remains a poem about the freedom to choose, and reminds us we do not know what we are choosing. It is not about the right path, just the one we choose, and as Robert Frost, so elequently titles the poem, it is really about the path we do not take. Definitely, a twisted "carpe diem."

Photos

I am working on organizing all the family photos and videos on the new computer. I know once I consolidate everything, it will be easier, but it sure is time consuming!