The Pause

I tell myself this is a lull. A pause. A gap? This is 54. When I am content with what I have, but worry that my content is somehow false.

For the first time in my life, I find myself alone. No parents, no siblings, no sorority sisters, no husband, no lover, no daughter in residence with me. It is me and Shotzie and Gatsby (my two doxie pups) and a small house on a quiet street.

This is great, I remind myself. This is okay, I hum in the back of my head. This is my reality, my heart pumps.

I am a busy gal. Days filled with work and friends and students. I don't arrive home most nights until nine p.m.- a glass of red wine, a netflix show, a slumber- and off I go again.

Now, I find myself in a strange limbo. College on recess and empty days. House is clean and laundry is done. I sleep in- an unaccustomed luxury. I sit and think and... there it is. The question. Is this my long-term reality? Am I okay with that?

Okay. I am okay. Hummmmmmmmmmm. I was a child who filled her head with fairy tales and designed a Princess life for myself. My Prince never showed. Many false Princes. I was easily convinced that each was The One- the forever guy- the stand-by-me and sweep me away like Calgon- guy. I never got a happy ending. Fault? I would have to tell you that I share it. It is tough to live up to a fairy tale life. I know this.

Curve balls came my way. This writer's scripted life did not include these bowling balls that struck down my dreams. I would, to my benefit, say that I was quite resilient. Divorce? Bouncy ball here. Child with medical needs? Keep on bouncing. Mother diagnosed with cancer and taken too soon? Just keep rebounding. I found myself bouncing and rebounding and weaving my way through life's obstacles. And, I decided, that was okay.

I cannot pinpoint when I decided that my life was not truly about me. It just happened. My dreams were not what my life was about. My hopes and dreams were wrapped in the happiness of others. Giving more to make someone else happy made me tick. For years, my clock ticked and time passed and I just...kept...giving... Tick-Tock-Tick-Tock.

Now, I sit and time continues to tick-tock and I am not moving. For the first time EVER I feel as if I am stuck. Waiting? Wanting? For what? For who? For me? This is a strange turn of events. I find myself doing bizarre, NORMAL things- saving money, searching for my forever home, planning ten years in advance. I am a live in the moment kind of gal, so this is somewhat alarming.

It is early morning. I type in the shadow of a sliver of sunlight bending its way through my living room blind. No television light. No radio sound. Pups are in their designated beds in post-breakfast nap mode and all I hear is the low hum of my laptop and the click of keys as they answer my fingertips. I rock gently in my chair in between sentences as words flow to my caffeinated brain and make sentences, then paragraphs, then a finished blogpost. This is my lull. I match my breathing to this slowed pace of life and tell myself it is okay. This is great. This is reality. This is 54. I am content.