On the occasions of my turning 50, I finally decided to get away from it all. I jetted off (albeit on less than an hour flight away from home) to rekindle old friendships and to rediscover myself.
I loudly and proudly declared my independence and my right to be, when I downloaded the plane ticket to my sanity.
Amid the woman who mean the world to me, I would celebrate the memories of having lived and arrived at a half a century.
Although it had been almost 33 years since we all came to be, in one room with time to share visions, hopes and dreams..The conversation was as dear as the friendships are to me. The smiles as genuine as the happy tears, moments well worth waiting for, year after year.
Smiling and sharing we pondered memories, that helped to shape and lead us each, to our respective, present day realities.
Not since my first son was born (most appropriately on Labor Day) nineteen years ago, had I packed myself up alone and headed out the door for anywhere farther than either a hospital or a grocery store within a 15 mile or 15 minute radius. This had been a self imposed imprisonment. I simply had not afforded my soul the time.
My second son arrived 17 years ago, my third son, 16 years ago and my fourth son 15 years ago this October.
Although I have shrinken almost as much as my sons have grown in height, stature and shoe size in the last couple years, I do feel that I have grown much closer to arriving at knowing what it is I want to be when I grow up!
With a suitcase full of Sister Sentiments to cherish and renewed energy, I board the plane for home, a woman re-released. With reaffirmed ideas and refreshed parts of me I love, I trust,and I hope with the support, of new memories.
Welcome back to testosterone city I grinned as the plane touched the ground, I am home and happenin' and puttin my foot down.
"Little kids, little problems" I hear my Mother assert .. as I wander through the front door and trip on someones shirt. Laying beside a coat that lay atop the shoes (missing in action since I left last Tues.,) is an item of edibility that has since passed it's prime, declaring by it's presence there "No it isn't mine."
In spite of the fact that it wasn't mine I bravely picked it up, I dropped it into the DQ dish and then grabbed the Timmys cup.I headed towards the kitchen and kissed each Son I passed, listening to them each mumble "Hey Mom, can you take my glass?"
Staking the dishes in my hand and the memories in my mind, I'm pretty glad to be home and awful glad their all mine.
Bless their hearts, their messes their manners and their minds. As long as I have to be feeding them you might as well bless their size!
