Monday, January 25, 2016

Thirty Years Later

It was finally the end of the week.

I was curled up on the couch with a steaming cup of mint tea yearning to close my eyes for a bit, contemplating what the hell to make for dinner, praying for some peace.

That's when I felt her push up on to my lap and in her little voice say, "Mama...where will we be in 30 years?"

Um...huh? groggy and unfocused.

"Well, in 30 years, I'll be 38 and you'll be 70.  What will we be up to?"

Wow...I'm not sure.  That feels like a very long time from now.  But my hunch is that you'll be making your dreams come true.  What sounds amazing to do when you're a grown-up?

"For sure I want to be an artist with a studio that has lots of sunlight and color and I guess, I want to be near you, like forever."

I want to be near you too.  Maybe you could paint and I could write?  Where should we go?  Paris, Tuscany, maybe Africa?

"Or a bookstore?  Maybe we could have a bookstore and sell children's books or a bakery and offer scones or a flower shop and deliver your favorite tulips or a veterinarian clinic and help animals or an ice cream place and create new flavors or a..."

That's the best part of dreaming...one good idea leads to another and another and pretty soon, the world is your oyster.

"Oyster?"

It means that the possibilities abound.  And while I want to spend my life with you...I suspect that you will have a special partner by the time you are my age to share in your travels and your dreams.

"Well, if that doesn't happen.  We can be together."

For sure...no matter what, we'll always be together.

Moments later, she jumped down and started bothering her little sister.  My tea was cold and the clock struck 5pm and there was no time.  I was on to the kitchen and the refrigerator and the dinner ingredients.

But for a brief moment, I thought...30 years from now.  I can't wait to see who she becomes and what she creates in the world.  Whether a canvas, a scone, a book or a remarkable ice cream flavor...she will indeed, change the world.






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