My mind wanders today in tandem with my recent journey. A short journey in miles - I moved just a few miles to the northside of Chicago, but a long journey in who I am and who I was and who I will be.
I downsized, simplified and plain old 'got rid of' a lot of THINGS (and I mean things as in possessions) for this move. It was, in the end cathartic, but in the process emotionally and therefore physically draining.
I recommend it to everyone. I especially recommend it to you if you are hesitant about the next step in your life, or a bit afraid of what the future holds, or if you are feeling like your life has 'stuck' in a holding pattern not of your choice. If your circumstances dictate that you move, then look at this as an opportunity to reflect on your life's route, stick out your thumb for help, and just start the journey.
As a matter of fact, this experience was so eyeopening to me that I now plan to make this an annual event in my life. I feel connected to the world. I have a history - it's good, bad and ugly, but it's mine! I think I've made a difference in someone's life. I plan to let others know they've made a difference in mine. Coincidences can't be programmed in GPS.
It started with a DVD made by my uncle shortly after my dad's death in 2000. It had pictures of my dad's parents & their siblings, pictures of my dad's brothers and sisters, their kids, and grandkids - almost 70 years worth of pictures! I also found a CD made from a recording of my father playing the accordian when he was 8 or 10 years old (a special talent for kids of the 40's and 50's - no one plays the accordian anymore!). On that original recording my grandparents and aunts and uncles sent a short note to a family friend...I heard my grandmother's voice as a young woman. She was 10 years younger than I am now - my grandmother! My aunts, some shyly, some boldly, stepping up to the recorder saying "hi". My aunt Ardith, may she rest in peace, was bold and outspoken in my life - the one people listened too, and so it seems from the recording, had this character trait even as a young girl. My aunt Sandy is shy, a killer with kindness, the one whose heart lives on her sleeve; and in the recording, you could hear that.
I kept my wedding dress, and the maid of honor's, our marriage certificate and the cake topper- all there for my children. I reread letters my ex husband and I wrote to each other during our painful separation and eventual divorce. They are heartrending and so real and so full of feeling. I cried a lot reading them, just as I cried a lot going through it. But I see in those letters, two people who didn't know each other until it was too late. And it reaffirms that the choice to divorce was the right choice.
I really liked going through things my children made - things they made just for me of their own accord, or things that every child makes in kindergarten in Iowa (the laminated Christmas tree with their smiling faces in place of the star). I kept coloring books just because they had colored in them. From the one color scribbles all over the page to the multi-colored, intricate pictures, all within the lines, of course! My children colored these, I see their tiny 4 year old selves hunkered down, concentrating on making the picture 'just right' for me. I have their report cards, their birth certificates, and thousands (yes, thousands!) of pictures of them. The amount even surprised me. As a matter of fact, of the 20 or so boxes I moved - almost 1/3 are full of pictures or mementos of my kids.
There are pictures of me as a child with my three brothers (sorry Sis & Ty you weren't born then) and cousins. I looked positively anorexic until puberty set in! My birth certificate - goodness my feet were tiny and...crooked. Maybe that's why they hurt today? Some of my report cards - almost all say I don't live up to my potential. What potential did those elementary teachers see in me? More importantly, how could I, a 7 year old, not live up to it? My high school year books, graduation photos and pictures from high school friends whose short notes on the back almost always describe me as "sweet" and "smart". I have the first book, although coverless, I was ever allowed to purchase from Scholastic Books. "A Room for Kathy" so appropriate for a girl who grew up with three younger brothers!
There were papers and quizzes, and abstracts and loan applications in there from my college years; both undergraduate and graduate. Newspaper clippings of my time as the student body president/vice president, a bronze labeled plaque in recognition as an outstanding alumni and capstone projects, a proposed theory on adult education (presented by me at a national conference I might add). And pictures too of my colleagues, Dr. Earnest (now, just Kurt then), Ms. Ruther, my mentors, Dr. Fairchild and Ms. Morlan and professors, Dr.s Torrie and Hausafras who helped me live up to my potential.
I kept my performance evaluations from Iowa State (wow! I was a go-getter) and the letter offering me the job at DePaul. I kept my first lease without my husband as a co-signer and my first lease in Chicago in a box. Some pictures of me enjoying myself at a size acceptance group, a few pictures of me with men I dated.
There were newspaper obituaries, and funeral programs of loved ones; both my parents, my mother-in-law, who was like a second mom, the grandparents Gumm, aunts and uncles and my dear friend Lisa Lilac who lost her six year battle with breast cancer less than a year ago. I'm glad we put pictures on funeral programs - we show them smiling and living their lives, surrounded by loved ones. It's as it should be.
I looked at pictures and postcards and lots of souvenirs from my travels abroad. Even maps of airports in Kuwait, Turkey and Bahrain - did I really think I was going to get lost in an airport? Is that me riding a camel in the Dubai desert? I celebrated my 40th birthday in Seoul, Korea and that picture of a flushed me with 40 empty glasses? I did NOT drink all those beverages.
I read notes to myself about work, looked at mundane 'to do' lists and found the first few chapters of the book I began writing in 1999. Subsequent chapters were in other layers of stuff.
While I didn't keep all of these things, just looking at them, reading them, feeling the emotions each evoked, helped me realize what path I've been on. As a little girl, I dreamed that my life would consist of travel and a stage. So the stage happened to be in high schools telling people about the opportunities a college education could afford them. I believe that. I am a walking example of that philosophy. So what if, in the dream I was 5 foot 10 and 120 lbs with long, flowing brown hair and drove a lime green sport car? I was still on the same highway. I may not have always followed the prescribed route and sometimes I admit I was lost and did not ask for directions, but I am here - still on that road, still moving forward, with a destination of being the best I can be in mind.
At this time in my life, I am moving into the slow lane. Honk at me if you choose, but I'm here and I know where I am going. Like the little old lady who can barely see over the steering wheel, I will not let your aggressive habits deter me from my destination. I will take a few classes so that I can teach composition at university level, if time allows, I'll earn a PhD. I will set my eyes on the 'early semi-retirement' exit sign and if all the planning and mapping and use of the GPS system fails, then I'll move into the next lane and keep going forward, using my rearview mirror as inspiration and motivation.
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