I Want What I Have

I don’t have many wants in my life.  I really don’t.  Sure, I’d love to have a personal chef, or more time to read, but I seem to manage with my own salad making skills and always have a book in the car to read, should an extra ten minutes present themselves to me during a baseball game rain delay.

I am content.

That doesn’t mean I don’t have goals or dreams that I hope to reach or achieve one day.  It simply means, that along this journey of doing and going, I am happy with what is in front of me right now.  The view is pretty nice and many days it’s just plain majestic.  (I love that word.)

Perhaps as we age, we realize that the working hard to save money, going on a big vacation, or buying that dream house is nice and can be very enjoyable, but it’s using that saved money to make someone smile, feeling the love from your family while on that vacation and creating laughter in that dream house that we really desire.  

I have all that I need.  

I have different “wants” than I once had.  I want to appreciate my children while they are young and still learning the ins and outs of growing up. I want to sit quietly and listen to the words of the song on the radio.  I want to spend time with my husband and hold his hand and laugh at ourselves on the pages of old photo albums (you know, the albums that have real printed photos in them that are stuck to the page?).  I want to read and learn about so many things and to fill my heart with the beauty that surrounds my life.

My wants are simple.

Today, I want what life has to offer me on this fine Friday and to offer up my heart to those around me.  I want only what I am meant to have on this beautiful day.  I want what I have.

Things I Know For Sure

When you have a chance to sleep in, the neighbors will decide to mow the lawn.

Boys really do smell after being outside all day.

Reading a good book can show you pieces of yourself you didn’t know existed.

True friends know what you look like without all the gloss and still love you.

When we are still and listen, whispers can be heard, which can often sound so loud we cannot help but respond aloud.

There are books in the library that have never been read.

Adults still wonder what they are going to be when they grow up.

We all make mistakes even when we know better.

The laundry is never done and if someone says they finished the laundry, they are probably lying.

School supplies are expensive.

Technology is wonderful, helpful, but sometimes, it’s just annoying.

Cereal can be dinner.

A Growth Spurt

Just when you think you’ve reached your adult height, something comes along and you realize you still have room to grow.

My oldest son attended one of the many midnight showings of the new Harry Potter movie last night with nine friends.  The plan was to stand outside in line (luckily tickets had already been purchased, so getting in was a sure thing) for three hours until their movie time, see the movie and then have parents pick them up at 3:00AM.  Yes, you heard me right, 3:00AM.

I volunteered to take them all to the movie in our vehicle and luckily they all fit. Seatbelts mandatory.  I wanted to see the group and how they interacted so that I could rest assured they would be safe and together in line. As I pulled up to the house in a massive downpour, I was pleasantly surprised by their consideration for the girls getting in first and out of the rain and if there was enough leg room for the 6’2” boy in the middle.  Thank you’s were said by everyone for picking them up and for letting them use the umbrellas and blankets.  My anxiety was lessened instantly.

We arrived at the theater and the host of the group got out first to pick up the tickets and then everyone followed her to their appropriate line to wait and be teenagers, laughing, doing spells on everyone with their makeshift wands and keeping warm and dry together in their umbrella campsite. 

“Bye.  Thank you.  Thanks again. Bye.” was the last I heard of them as they opened their umbrellas and walked through the puddles to their line.

I arrived home and the clock ticked at the most unbelievable turtle's  pace.  This was the longest night of my parenting life.  We texted every forty-five minutes to confirm their wetness level and okness up until they were seated inside, umbrellas under their chairs and popcorn in hand.  The response to my last text asking whether or not they were inside was a simple four-word reply.  “Yeahhh!  No more txtng!”

I got the hint. 

I had to grow up as a parent and let the rope loosen and let them be.  It was not easy, but I did it.  I had to do it.  It’s the only way they can prove themselves to us and the only way we can prove to ourselves that we’ve done our job.   They need to be kids and sometimes they need to be kids without parents sitting in the parking lot (which I did not do - cross my heart and hope to die) or standing in line with them.  I must have grown three inches in one night.

I set the alarm (why I don’t know, because I watched every minute tick by for two hours and five minutes) and tried to relax.  Once I reached the theater, he and his friend hopped in the car and we were off to the safe and secure walls of our home.  He was safe AND had a great time.  I was tired, but I was happy. It was a  growth spurt for both of us, although I think I did a bit more growing than he did.  I think I could get used to the view from this new level.  

The Whole Mower?

The business sign hadn’t been painted or touched up in fifty years.  The dirt road was covered by bushes and overgrown trees and I was worried I was going to be greeted by a pit bull tied to the fence by a heavy chain as I got out of my car.  This wasn’t Lowe’s or Home Depot, that’s for sure. 

I pulled up behind a green 1970 something Ford pick up filled with old lawn mowers, a broken lawn chair and a chain saw in need of a new blade.  The owner climbed in the truck and tipped his hat at me as I opened my door (all the while looking over my shoulder for a growling dog that had to be chained up somewhere).  

I walked toward the open door in search of the voice I spoke to over the phone only a half hour earlier.   My eyes couldn’t take it all in.  Small engine belts hung all over the walls in various sizes covered in layers and layers of dust. One hundred plastic bins lined the counter and wall behind the counter all over-flowing with dirty plastic bags filled with mounting washers, thumb screws, spark plugs and the like. 

The north wall was covered in newspaper clippings, photos of dogs from childhood, lawnmower decals, a business license (that was probably expired, but didn’t dare look too closely at the date) and parts hammered to the wall that didn’t fit into the bins behind the register.

The gentleman behind the counter looked at me over his dirty glasses.  “What ya got?” I explained to him that I was trying to fix the pull cord on my lawn mower and when it wouldn’t recoil, I took off the cover to give it a twist and to try and… 

He interrupted and scolded me. “You don’t take that off ‘less you know what yer doin’!” Obviously I didn’t know what I was doing and couldn’t fix it myself, thus, my reason for visiting his fine establishment on this wonderful Monday.  I was already mad at myself for removing one too many screws and did not need him to remind me of my blunder.  Thank you very much.

I handed him the bag of parts I had disassembled, when he asked if I had the whole mower.  The whole mower?  Did he think I was a fool?  No, I only brought the wheels and the broken pull cord with me. I thought that would be enough to repair it.  YES, I brought the whole mower with me.  He then politely asked if I needed help getting it out of the truck.  Duh!  (I wasn’t about to go into details about how my 14 year-old and I struggled to get the awkward thing in there in the first place.  He wasn’t one for small talk, and I wasn’t about to be left in the rain trying to get it out alone.)  I politely said, “Yes, please,” and followed him to the back of my car.

I filled out my name (first name only please) and phone number and signed my life away on a form that was at least 30 years old.  I didn’t even ask how much it was going to cost for fear a dog would come out from behind the desk and bloody my ankles.  I asked how long and he said just a few days, so I smiled with thanks and left.

 I climbed back into my car and made a u-turn near the back end of the lot where dozens of old lawn mowers sat with weeds growing through them, paint rusted out and all missing wheels and pull cords.   The dirt road was now filled with rain puddles as I made my way back out through the jungle of small engines and used lawn mower parts strewn along the side.  I felt as if I was leaving a movie set.  I only hoped that behind the closed garage doors were real people working on real lawn mowers and that I wasn’t just another fool dropping off a lawn mower in hopes of having it repaired. I didn’t want to be taken for a fool twice.  Only time will tell…

My 15-Minute Parking Pass

I drove downtown today to a beautiful private college campus to pick up tickets to a dance concert that my husband and I are going to on our date tomorrow night. I parked the car in the only spot available marked “15 minute parking” and rushed to find the building to purchase the tickets. 

The groundskeepers were driving around in their topless golf carts, covered in dirt.  The camp leaders were standing in the street watching their 8 year-old campers cross safely.  The cafeteria crew was assembling the tables under a white tent on the front lawn for some evening dinner about to happen.  The birds chirped loud enough for me to hear them and the smell of a hundred year old building brushed my nose as I entered the hall to complete my ticket purchase.  

I quickly paid and walked back out onto the campus.  I had ten minutes left on my honor system parking. (Was anyone really watching me as I parked, noting my arrival time?  I don’t think so.)  I wanted to just sit on the front steps of the elegant old building and soak up all the history and collegeness that was there.   It was the most beautiful afternoon and the campus was ready for it’s new brochure cover shot. 

Something was tugging at my heart.  I wanted to be there.  Stay there.   You know the feeling when you walk into your first home. You just know it’s going to be yours.   It just feels right.  I have this strange feeling that comes over me every time I step foot onto a small college campus.  This just happened not too long ago as well when visiting our friends out East who work at a college.  We toured the campus together and the same feeling just filled me up. 

Could this be a sign?  Could this be a God whisper?  I’m not sure. All I know is that I wanted to stay.  I wanted to be a part of that atmosphere that filled my every nook and cranny as I walked across the crayon green grass back to my car.  Someday.  Maybe, one day I’ll be back on a small college campus and stay for a while and trade my 15-minute parking pass for a "staff only" parking pass.  Just maybe. I’ll have to wait and see.