Contemplations on Being Grown Up

A while back I visited Amanda over at Bound for Home and she had the song Back to the Earth by Rusted Root on grooveshark (still don't know how to use this feature on my blog). It was 1994, two years since I graduated high school and moved 1306.09 miles from my hometown. My childhood friend, Jennifer Mackowiak, who  had worked in a music store (remember those?), told me through a letter (and those?), or a long distance phone call (and those?), or on a trip home about Rusted Root. "Get their album", she said. "You'll love it".

And I did! When I Woke became part of the soundtrack to my life, along with Tori Amos' Under the Pink, Indigo Girl's Swamp Ophelia, Luka Bloom's Turf to name a few. Life was easy and complicated then. I felt so young. I remember asking my sister, (who is 10 years older than me), when she felt like an adult? "I still don't", she told me. I didn't believe her. She was married after all...  and they had plans to start a family. She sure seemed like an adult to me.

But hearing that song for the first time in a long time, I now understand what my sister meant. I have felt it -- that feeling of knowing I may never feel like an adult -- many times. I felt it on my wedding day, after my son was born, everytime I vote, and when I interview for jobs. I also see it when I'm in the classroom -- some of my students are my age, some older, but many... most weren't even in kindergarden when I was buying my first Rusted Root album. I feel my age when I look in their eyes - no indication of the dark circles to come.

I will celebrate by 40th birthday in 14 months. I am married. I have a son. I have a graduate degree. I still don't feel like an adult and everytime I hear one of those songs from my 20 year old soundtrack, I (don't) feel it even more!!

then.and.now: swings

number.five 

 But what minutes!  Count them by sensation, and not by calendars, and each moment is a day.                                                                                                          ~Benjamin Disraeli

Inviting you to link up with your own "then and now" 

the little things...

 

Trash. One thing I hate dealing with is the trash and recycle. I think it stems way back to when I was 11 or 12 and my mom had asked me to take the trash out. The sun had set hours before and our back porch light wasn't bright enough to light the alley where the trash cans were. I balked at my mom asking why one of my brothers couldn't do it. It was, after all, their job. "Just do it", she said sternly. So I tied up the plastic overflowing trash bag best I could and headed out the back door. The damp grass was cold on my bare feet. As I neared the alley my pace quickened. I wasn't afraid of the dark, I just hated fighting with my imagination having to tell myself, it's just a shadow. As I swung my arm to get the momentum needed to chuck the bag into the aluminum can, my foot stepped down but it wasn't cold damp grass. It was hot fresh dog shit... squishing between my toes. After cleaning my foot off best I could in the grass and making my way back to the house, I opened the sliding glass door, looked at my mom, "I stepped in dog shit".  She laughed of course and laughed again when she greeted me the next morning only to hear me respond, "I can't believe I stepped in dog shit". She still laughs about it some 25 years later.  But I regress.

As I was saying, I hate dealing with the trash and recycle. I am blessed that Jenn takes care of both. Always! I can let the trash pile higher and higher knowing that she will deal with it. And I'm so grateful. This past Sunday as I was driving home from the grocery store, I see some of the neighbors have dragged their cans to the curb for tomorrow's trash pick up.  I think to remind Jenn that it's trash day tomorrow and would she please get the cans to the curb before bed tonight... and don't forget the office trash can, it's not been emptied in a while and the upstairs bathrooms. As I park the car, I suddenly I decide to do it myself. I drag the cans to the curb and come inside and gather all the trash and recycling, including the office and the upstairs bathrooms and carry it to the curb.... and what do I see, but the most amazing moon rise.  If I hadn't taken out the trash myself, I would have missed this beautiful sight.  My camera doesn't do much to capture the sight, but I can't help but keep shooting.

Jenn noticed. "Did you empty the upstairs bathroom trash? Thank you." I guess I've just been remembering how nice it is when someone does one of my "chores" for me.

Lesson learned: Sometimes when we do things we don't want, we unexpectedly get to experience things we would have missed out on.

When have you done for another and gotten/experienced something wonderfully unexpected in return?