And then he asked, “So, you’re not having anymore kids right? It’s just me forever?”
And I said, “Unless a dragon drops one off, it’s just you.”
Once upon a time we dreamed of having three children. We also dreamed of touring Europe, buying a boat, driving across Canada, and building a huge house way out in the middle of no where. I’m talking so far out in the middle of no where that even solicitors would have to cross train for weeks just to be able to make it up our driveway. Our house was going to have towering trees for shade and climbing and swinging, and the yard was going to be big enough for running and rolling and chasing.
I told Shawn that our patio must wrap all the way around the house so that when the summer rain fell upon us or when night shooed us to bed, we could laugh at nature in our swing while drinking ourselves into oblivion – dreaming more.
But here, fourteen years later, we are still waking up under the same roof on the same quaint street that Shawn had stumbled upon. It had a bar in the basement, he said. It also had red shag carpet and peach walls and a very pink bathroom but at 23 years old, oooh baby this house was golden. It had the potential to be something so spectacular.
And it is.
Because we made it ours.
It’s absolutely perfect for what we need.
Of course, we still want more.
But right now, we have what we need.
Looking back, even though some of our dreams together may not have come to fruition, we keep shifting and evolving.
It reminds me so much of skipping stones at my in laws cottage.
My husband and son will pick the stones and riffle them across the lake one after the other after the other.
Sometimes the stones they collect will just plunk right down under.
Sometimes they will careen in odd directions or hit a little wave and fly off into the sky.
When they find the right stones and combine that with the best side arm toss, we watch them delightfully skip across one, two, three, maybe four times or more.
Wherever those stones go, or how they go, it doesn’t matter.
It never stops us from picking up another and ripping it across the lake. It’s fun and exciting just like dreams are. It keeps you alive. We can always make dreams together and throw it out into universe.
Watch it wherever it goes…
Chase it, make it happen if possible, and if not, dream another.
And yes, sometimes we’ve had to let dreams go and I will tell you those have hurt. When you had envisioned something in your mind and then life didn’t pan out that way. You go through a lot of emotions – sadness, anger, frustration, even jealousy if you’re watching someone else achieve the things you wanted. Believe me. I’ve been there. When I destroyed my spine and had to let go of my dream career, the one that I had chased since I was a little tot, that was absolutely devastating. With that, came chronic pain and the lost pay checks and scrambling to redirect our paths.
Then when I gave birth, it was like hearing the final lock wheel fall exactly into place – my genes, chemistry, hormones, past life experiences – all syncing to unlock an underlying mental illness.
We kept his baby clothes for such a long time but we knew.
We knew that every time we packed away his Rock’n Roll t’s and his cargo jeans that we would be storing them for someone else.
And a lot of me was angry and sad but at the same time, I was OK.
Because I couldn’t picture a world with big enough arms.
I don’t have a big enough heart to love someone as much as I love my child.
There just isn’t any room left.
Now when we dream, we dream in threes.
Sideways, up, down, across the lake, into the sky…we don’t stop.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Our family is complete Chicken Little. You filled all the cracks so beautifully. In fact, you filled us with so much love that it sometimes bursts out on our faces in big giant smiles and then we need to give you kisses on your cheek or give you embarrassing hugs in public.