Are You Still Dreaming?

I recently got a call from a good friend concerned about her baby sister. The "baby" sister is a 42 year old mother with one grown son in college and another soon to be a senior in high school. She appears to be suffering with some depression. My friend was just looking for an empathetic ear. I wouldn't have had any advice anyway but I could hear my mother's voice and a much earlier discussion about mid-life crisis, in my head, as I hung up the phone.


As an elementary school child, I was a slow starter in the mornings. It took repeated jostling to get me out of bed. I ate breakfast at a snail's pace and then proceeded to take forever getting dressed. A working mother's nightmare. But even my mother, who was a stay-at-home mom, decided early on her mornings could not start this way. Her solution was to have me take my bath and choose clothes, for the next school day, long before I was tucked into bed at night.  But this time soon became more than a solution to the early morning crazies. It became our private time, a beloved time for me, when I found answers to the endless questions and childhood worries that rambled around in my head. We talked about anything and everything  but specifically things that seemed inappropriate for a dinner table discussion.  It was during this time, when I was in second grade, that I admitted Susan's older brother told us how babies were conceived. She explained that this was a topic I needed to be a little bit older to completely understand but proceeded to tell me just enough to relieve my young mind. And it was also during one of these discussions that I asked what a mid-life crisis was - after my friend, Judy, told me her aunt was in the middle of one!

 Of course, I don't remember every word my mother used when she delivered her insights but you'd be surprised at just how many I can actually still hear in my head. My memory of the little bathroom, where most of our discussions began, has faded. But the vision of her, sitting on the edge of the tub tossing capfuls of bubble bath into the water ....has not.

"You know how much you look forward to being old enough to baby-sit?", my mother began, knowing full well that it was one of my young-life dreams.  She knew I loved little children and looked forward to the time when I could play with them and care for them like a little mom.

I'm much younger here, than I was in my story, but I can remember how grown-up I felt
having just a little responsibility for Jeffrey, a close family friend's young son. 

                                          
"When people are young, she continued, they dream about being old enough to do grown-up things. They dream about a time when they'll be old enough to drive a car, go on a date, or live on their own.  As they get a little older, many people begin to dream about getting accepted to a college and finding that perfect job. They dream about getting married, buying a house, and having children. They look forward to all the joyous times that accompany being a family."

" Many of those dreams come true. Jobs and careers are started and people get married and have children. And even if it doesn't happen exactly as people had planned and dreamed, they can be very happy. They are also very busy. It takes a lot of time to raise a family and care for a house, and go to work every day. In fact, they are so busy that sometimes they don't take time to think about the new things they have to look forward to in their lives. They sort of stop imagining and dreaming about the future."

"The days add up to months and the months add up to years and before they know it.....their children are all grown up and about ready to go and start their own lives.  All those dreams about having and raising children might have come true but they are coming to an end. Your children will always be your children but they won't always need you like they once did when they were little. This usually happens when adults are in the middle of their lives so they call it a mid-life crisis. It makes a lot of people very sad."


My mother's explanation was obviously a simplified explanation of a complicated topic but it was perfect for my young mind. I knew that if I ever met Judy's aunt (the woman supposedly having the mid-life crisis), I would feel compassion towards her instead of fear or suspicion. I also felt a bit more empowered to face an adult world that could look pretty scary at times.

Although many of my questions on life might have been answered "at the tub",  I know they were really learned and internalized as I watched my mother live her life.  Military life meant there was a new home, in a new location, every 3-5 years. I know it was difficult for her to leave her friends but it must have also been a challenge to create/recreate a warm familiar home environment, settle me into  new schools, and find ways to pursue her own personal interests. But you would have never known that by her attitude. She promised friends she would stay in touch ( it was mickey's joy!) and turned her energies to the excitement of living in a new place and the yet-to-be-discovered opportunities for travel. Whether it was a goal she shared with my dad, a personal dream, or just planning for the holidays, my mother always found something that she could look forward to. She was always planning and dreaming. It was simply how she lived her life.