{"id":672,"date":"2011-02-22T11:25:04","date_gmt":"2011-02-22T15:25:04","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.gloriacrist.com\/blog\/?p=672"},"modified":"2011-02-22T11:25:04","modified_gmt":"2011-02-22T15:25:04","slug":"older-wiser-really","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.gloriacrist.com\/blog\/2011\/02\/older-wiser-really\/","title":{"rendered":"Older. Wiser. Really?"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>It’s the birthday blog.\u00a0 A year in the life of.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In the George Bailey moments I visit from time to time…I go back to what it would be like if.\u00a0 Don’t we all?\u00a0 Even the people I would deem as content as could be- with all that is good and true\u00a0in their lives- must have a reflective\u00a0 thought or two and ponder\u00a0a scenario the current life choice has pushed back into the recesses of that part of the brain that burys things that should,well, just be left in there-way in the back of the recesses of the brain.<\/p>\n

Over coffee with a friend who seemingly is content began to cry when I asked how she was.\u00a0 It was not a sob fest mind you, but that simple question brought about a stream of tears.\u00a0<\/p>\n

“Oh my God,” she said, “I thought I had dealt with this…”<\/p>\n

Not knowing if I said something wrong-as I am known to do at the mostly wrong of times, I sat there silent and watched as she wiped away tear after tear with her coffee stained napkin.<\/p>\n

“I am having a hard time turning forty,” she said.\u00a0 “I thought I would be further along than I am, I thought I would not be bogged down with the things I don’t really want to do that are getting in the way of things I want to.”<\/p>\n

\u00a0I was silent.\u00a0 She went on.<\/p>\n

“For some reason, I thought I would be in a different place…..with a different set of rules. Not that I hate my life, I just thought it would be different at this point.”<\/p>\n

\u00a0I was hesitant, but there is only so much silence one can offer sitting across a two top in a crowded coffee shop.<\/p>\n

\u00a0Oh what the hell.<\/p>\n

“When did you turn forty?”\u00a0 I asked with an offering of a clean napkin.<\/p>\n

“Almost a year ago.”\u00a0 And then the tears again.\u00a0 No sobs.\u00a0 Sad tears.\u00a0 Reflective tears.\u00a0 Transitional tears.<\/p>\n

I know them well.\u00a0 Tears of the what if.\u00a0 The reflective salty tears of not knowing where you really are-but knowing this ain’t it.\u00a0 The determined tears of frustration when nothing is going right and you want so much for the wrong to be done with.\u00a0 AND, you are not even sure what the right is.\u00a0 But this ain’t it.\u00a0 The tears of a woman who knows where she has been and is thank-ful for the road map and the miles that show.\u00a0 Tears of knowing that reflect the purpose of a chosen path-and sometimes the lack of courage to take another. Tears of the unknown.\u00a0 There is no Clarence who will swoop down and save us from drowning in the cold waters of what if.\u00a0 There is no Kodachrome playback of what would be if we were not around.\u00a0 There is no crystal ball eeking out a fuzzy picture of the future.\u00a0 There are the footprints of surviving the past-of making the most of what is given.\u00a0 These are the battle wounds of a warrioress- the tears of strength and determination.\u00a0 The focus of knowing-regardless\u00a0if the outcome is not clear or the end result not what we thought it was going to be.\u00a0 These are the moments that play back on rewind and remind us we can, we have and we will continue to move.\u00a0 Even if the transitions are hard.\u00a0 Even if the future is fuzzy.\u00a0 We will cry and hurt- and love and want more.\u00a0 And we just might get it.<\/p>\n

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