I've had some very deep thoughts lately that have practically consumed me. And they are good-good thoughts which are frankly, a tad unusual because I am always freaking out about something or another. It hit me, in a moment of sadness, that I could still have a fairytale life.
Let me explain. My life has been a bit difficult. Between Rowdy's two diseases that have turned our world upside down more than once, my jobs that have not always been desirable (and me working in general has not always been desirable), complicated pregnancies and NICU care for both kids, returning to grad school, financial strain/student loans, and the hard decisions that we have had to face while only in our 20's--have not made life easy. And I have been resolute that the dream I had when so young--the fairytale of a home and a great job and sun and crisp autumn picnics and bike rides as a family--were not going to be a reality for us. 12 years later...I came to the conclusion with much bitterness...that MY reality is NOT and never will be a fairytale.
But recently I have begun to dream again. The thought of having a trampoline and a new baby (oh please oh please) and riding those bikes to get a slurpee at the nearest 7-11 (granted Rowdy will never ride another bike as long as he lives due to riding one on his Mission, so it will just be me and the kids) can and WILL be our reality. And I feel so dang blessed for it. Is it strange, to already feel so blessed for something I don't have yet?
I remember our first house. How I had painted the living room and hall yellow and the red brick walls and green shutters were just perfect for starting out. We had only been married a year, and getting a house had seemed impossible with our income--and yet it happened. I remember hearing about my MIL stopping by when I wasn't home and peering into the window to see my buttery walls and my khaki green couch that we had bought brand new. She said it was lovely and that I had great taste. Ever since then, no matter where we live and how she questions my choice of paint color in the can, afterwards when it is done and decorated, she always says I have great taste.
That home was good to us. We brought my first baby home, I screamed in fury at the magnolia tree who dropped leaves in the front yard year-round, and Rowdy's friends returned from missions and were always there requesting food which I happily made them. They were hard years where a horrible kidney disease was discovered, but they were also years when a Christmas Tree and gifts were left on our porch after the final return from the hospital. They were years of growing up and college finals and two jobs while raising a baby and trying to get pregnant again and retaining our sanity. And miracles happened there which made our life---what life was meant to be.
It has occurred to me now, that hard life lessons...and our present unwanted apartment living...and school...and starting a business do not mean a fairytale does not exist and dreams cannot come true.
I suddenly realize that they have thus far even when sometimes you have to take a step back. Although I am not satisfied with what we are experiencing right now, I am satisfied in the knowledge that we can be happy wherever we are. And dreams of a house and bike rides and afternoons on the trampoline can still come true.
And they will.