Mothers

WITH ATTITUDE

Also by
Julie Donner Andersen

PAST: Perfect! PRESENT: Tense!: Insights From One Woman's Journey as the Wife Of A Widower

JULY 28, 2004

A Dream That You Wish
The big things in life are the little things.

There are days when I stare longingly at red sports car convertibles carrying throngs of giggling, free-spirited youths to a fun-filled day at the beach, slender bodies barely holding up tiny string bikinis, and none of them wearing watches because to them, time means nothing more than decades to go before they even have to think about retirement benefits.

Then I look at my life's investments playing at my feet and remember that stretch marks are badges of honor, and with honor comes responsibility to the frailest and most vulnerable of our society -- our children.

There are times when I swoon right along with the gorgeous heroine in a sappy romantic movie, clutching her bouquet of red American Beauty roses, her handsome beau gently caressing her delicate face in his manly hands, as his perfect baritone voice serenades her with sweet words of undying love, assuming that the intensity of their love will never wane.

Then I remember that hearing my husband cry tears of unabashed joy at the births of our babies was enough romantic music to my ears to last me a lifetime, and I am reassured by my memories that the obstacles he and I face, especially those we hurdle together, deepen our union with each passing, sometimes forgotten anniversary.

There are moments when I yearn for the solitude only the young can know -- the option of choice one exercises because one can -- to be locked in your room with only your thoughts and dreams to accompany you, with no interruptions from people who need something from you right now; to turn off all background noise and turn on your imagination as you bury yourself in a book about a life you dream of, far away from the place you now call home.

Then I remember that the true definition of home is family, and how mine is the bedrock of my existence; its members' love being the one thing in life I can count on to keep my heart beating, knowing that the loneliness of living without them would erase all meaning and purpose from my life.

There are instances when I have recalled the Green Eyed Monster as I glance at young, hard bodies, toned from hours of workouts; healthy and strong at the starting point of the race of life before them; eager for the challenge and unaware of the dangers; happily naive about the events of death, miscarriage, failing health, and fear of aging that may one day crush their virgin-like spirits.

Then I remember that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and that the eyes that behold me daily are the same loving eyes that see clear through to a soul he knows so well; the same appreciative eyes that look upon my signs of aging as mile markers on the unpredictable but wonderfully long road of life we share; the same comforting eyes I wake up to each morning with gratitude for the one who sees more in me than outer beauty, who shares my deepest dreams, and who has held my hand through the worst of life's heartaches -- and always will.

There are momentary lapses of sanity when I hunger for the vastness of time the young have in front of them, cursing the time that is behind me; my covetousness feeding my disdain for the carefree young people I encounter because of my failure to reverse or slow down time that I no longer possess.

Then I remember that my cache of memories sustains my weary, aging mind with a beauty unmatched by the fear of the unknown; my dignity born from life experience, perseverance, and appreciation of every breath I take.

We don't always recognize granted wishes until we realize that we are actually living the dreams we've yearned for all our lives.

I wanted to deliver a speech that would validate people's feelings, motivate them to greatness, and end with a standing ovation that lasted an hour.

Instead, I settled for doling out pearls of motherly wisdom and love to children who grew up to call me blessed for the rest of their lives.

I wanted to sing a song that would move a listener to tears by the sheer beauty of its music and its poetic words of undying love.

Instead, I settled for the rapturous sound of my baby's sleeping breaths, the sweet noise of my husband alerting me to his returns with "Honey, I'm home!" and the incomparable din of my children playing safely and happily in our back yard.

I wanted to marry a rich and handsome man, live in a wondrous castle, and host lavish parties.

Instead, I settled for marrying the man I can't live without, renovating our three-bedroom "fixer-upper" into our dream house, and hosting our children's extravagant birthday galas.

I wanted to be famous and adored by throngs of worshippers who grovelled at my feet, begging for my autograph.

Instead, I settled for handmade Mother's Day cards that proclaimed me the greatest mom in the world, and the outstretched arms of my toddler greeting me with joy every morning upon awakening, sweetly asking for her mommy's kiss.

I wanted to be gorgeous, and searched for vanity in bottles of hair dye, cases of cosmetics, and millions of miles on the treadmill.

Instead, I settled for the beauty to be found in the gifts of a sunrise, a baby's first smile, and the feel of my husband's aging hand in mine.

I wanted to travel the globe and see sights most people only read about in history books or National Geographic magazine.

Instead, I settled for witnessing the miraculous births of my children and every wedding anniversary milestone, and felt they were historical enough.

I wanted to write The Great American Novel, full of richly adventurous characters who made mistakes but conquered their fears, whose perseverance paid off when reaching for the stars, and whose presence on this planet was meaningful and purposeful.

Instead, I settled for living this life myself.

I wanted to be better at something than anyone else on earth; to do one thing and do it perfectly; to be a professional in my choice and ever ambitious about the goals I set for my lifelong career.

Instead, I settled for becoming an imperfect but devoted wife and mother, and never looked back with regret.

I wanted to change the world.

Instead, I settled for finding peace and deep abiding love within my heart, thereby altering the lives of the people in my own home.

And, by default, I simply changed the world one soul at a time.

[Julie Donner Andersen is the author of “PAST: Perfect! PRESENT: Tense! Insights From One Woman’s Journey As The Wife of a Widower” (iUniverse, Inc.) and the upcoming illustrated humor book, “Parentally Insane: Insights From The Edge of Midlife.” Julie can be reached via her website at www.authorsden.com/juliedonnerandersen. ]

Copyright © 2004 by Julie Donner Andersen. All rights reserved. Materials may not be reprinted or reproduced without express permission of author.