My Mother, Myself

My mom (in the white dress) and dad (center) at a Women's City Club event in the very early 80s

A picture may be worth a thousand words, but what those words are worth depends largely on who is speaking. Today, I went straight to the source—my mother—to ask what it was she recalls about being (just slightly older than) the age I am now: 

"I think [this photo] was taken at a  Women's City Club Charity Ball in the early '80's.  It may have been the year I was president in 1982. From our mid-thirties on, until we left Laredo, I worked full-time year round and always looked forward to going home to see my girls.  I did like my job, although, my first love was always teaching instead of administrating.  

Dad and I always worried about saving money so that we'd have enough to send you both to college without you having to worry. and also to have enough in our old age so that you wouldn't have to worry about us [Ed note: they were successful on both fronts].  We liked to travel but didn't do too much of that because it was too expensive. We rarely ate out because that, too, was too expensive.

As far as Dad is concerned, he pretty much did what he does now -- a lot of reading and listening to music.  He also, as you know, spent a lot of time teaching children and their mothers how to swim.  On weekends, he would always play tennis.  We have recently admitted that we never used to take time to "smell the roses" or "watch the birds." We are now much more appreciative of things around us."

My parents did, in the end, get everything they wanted for themselves and their family. They travel quite a bit, and as I type are packing up for an extended vacation to the French countryside. They also do take time to watch the birds. Literally. My dad bought birdfeeders and a birdbath for the backyard and every phone call home begins with a report on the roadrunners, hummingbirds and other winged creatures who have visited that day. 

In many ways, my life 30 years later is not so different from my mother's. Though I do not yet have a spouse or kids, I too worry about the future—about having enough to live on both now and later on. I want to enjoy life, but often find myself making similar choices regarding going out to eat and traveling. Life seems to be, at this stage, a lot about making it through the day while simultaneously looking ahead as far down the road as one can see. Reading my mother's words makes me feel normal. Like the choices I'm making have been made for generations. That life can sweep past all of us if we aren't looking. 

About an hour before I received this email from my mom, I stopped mid-stroll with my friend Morgan to literally smell a single, perfect pink rose in someone's front stoop garden. I've had a feeling of late that life is passing by so quickly that the moments that truly matter hardly register when my eyes are constantly fixed on what's next. I long to be present in the present, and come to the next stage of life knowing that I enjoyed what was, rather than longing for what wasn't.