Time

It’s Time

Jeanna G1 Comment

You pass by too fast

I’ll capture you in a photograph

You laugh

I’ll store you in a box under my bed

You shake your head

I’ll lock you in my diary

You just smile at me

I’ll bottle you up and place you on my shelf for everyone to see

Can’t you see? There’s no stopping me

Don’t leave, I want you to stay

Don’t worry, there’s more of me coming your way

But you’ll be different and I miss how you used to be

It’s not me who changes, sweetpea

What are you trying to say?

It is you who will leave me one day

To Be Continued…

Jeanna G2 Comments

My daughter and I have been streaming reruns of Who’s the Boss? lately. I love that she loves sitcoms from my childhood; it’s a nice bonding opportunity that I take full advantage of. At the end of one of the seasons, an episode came to the end of its time at a suspenseful moment, and “To Be Continued” appeared on the screen. She inhaled a quick breath and looked at me with wide eyes. A second later she remembered that she just had to click on the ‘next episode’ option, one that didn’t exist when I was growing up, and she was able to find out what would happen next.

Personally, I prefer a cliffhanger. Let me imagine what the future will bring. Let me dream up the possibilities. Suspense is a feeling that has taken a backseat in this world of instant gratification.

I recently changed careers, and the whole process has been a cliffhanger. What am I going to do? How do I do this? How will my life change? What skills do I need to dust off for this, and what new ones will I learn?

At the same time my daughter is entering adolescence like her brakes gave out. What will happen next? How will she change? What will stay the same?

I’m enjoying the suspense, and grateful to know that, while the last chapter came to an end, our story is to be continued…

Superlatives and Prophecies

Jeanna G4 Comments

At my high school, each graduating class would vote on who should receive the superlative titles of Class Clown, Most Talkative, and Best All Around, among others. I didn’t receive any superlative distinctions by my class. I should’ve been voted “Most Sure of Myself,” because I knew who I was and what I wanted in life. Even so, I was curious about what they (I assume the yearbook committee members were our prophets?) predicted for my future. I really just needed to make sure I’d been heard. And I had been. My Senior Prophecy was that I ‘will never pay off my chiropractor bills.’ It was a funny nod to the assumption that I would become a chiropractor – my career goal at that age – and would have a mountain of loans to pay off. What’s ironic is that I’m not a chiropractor, but I’m still paying bills for all of the chiropractic treatments I continue to receive, thanks to my exhausting life. I might now be superlative as “Most in Need of an Adjustment.” Somehow my Plan A disappeared, along with B and C, and now I’m on Plan D, which wasn’t a plan until about 6 years ago.

As the Yiddish proverb advises, “When you make plans, God laughs.”

As a kid, I had a grand plan. I knew what I wanted. I knew what was going to happen. I knew how old I’d be when I married and started a family, how many kids I’d have, what my career would be, even what my house would look like.

I wasn’t right about any of it. I’m now superlative at being “Most Gobsmacked.”

This revelation begs acceptance of what is, closely followed by a proposal to quit planning.

At church on epiphany Sunday, we all close our eyes and select a star from a basket. Each star has a word on it that we can contemplate for some time. My daughter chose “prophecy.” I chose “eagerness.” I nudged her in the pew and told her to hurry up and tell me what was coming my way. I couldn’t decipher her look; was she annoyed, or was she just thinking it best not to break the news?

I guess I’ll just have to be superlative as “Most Patient” and “Most Observant” for what is heading my way. I hope I don’t miss it while I’m busy making Plan E.