This weekend while strolling around an art festival arm in arm with two wonderful men (aren’t I the smart gal) I ran into the Mother of an old, old, haven’t talked to old friend in 18 years, sort of blast from my past. Now usually if I spot anyone that is from R-BC (Rebecca Before Children) I run the opposite direction like a doe running from a wolf of memories, but I shocked myself in a moment of brazen curiosity and walked up to old friends Mom. I must have left a lingering impression because she remembered me, and it must have been a decent impression because she didn’t gasp, “Oh noooooooo not you!” (and run the opposite direction with her fingers in her ears) Instead, she was very friendly and instantly called me by my R-BC name ~ Becky.
We talked for some time, catching up, filling in the years of what I’ve been up too and this sweet Mom, catching me up on her daughters world. What struck me, and has lingered since Saturday is the huge difference in my life compared to my old friend. I have two children, old friend is thinking about having kids soon. I’ve been married twice, she’s never married. She lived out the country for 10 years, I’ve never broke past the borders of Idaho. My oldest daughter is the same age R-BC and old friend hung out last. Hello time warp……..
Kaitlyn & Shelby 1st day of School 2009
We are the same age, yet, our lives that once mirrored one another are so far removed, universes apart and our realities only share the common thread of past memories. When I got home Saturday evening I pulled up the picture of my two daughters and their first day of school this year. When I was 19 years old I had a baby and that baby is now 17 years old and a Senior in High School. Time in a vice grip.
Since the day, the very second I moved out of my parents home with a baby on my hip, I have lived life firmly attached to parenthood and adulthood responsibilities. I never experienced life apart from my parents and solely responsible for myself and myself alone like my old friend. Yes, to this day, I wonder what could have been, where I would have gone, what I could have done if I hadn’t poured such precious concrete around my future.
I don’t believe what I feel is regret, but rather the occasional discreet glances over my shoulder at turning points. I am human and not to glance occasionally would be downright inhuman —right? For me a very profound defining moment happened one month after I turned 19 and it wasn’t the sex, it was the baby it created. The moment of conception is when my path in life took a hard left and I was shuffled off the learn solitary independence path my friends were on and I lined up, single file, on the fast track to caring for another, 24/7.
This subject, my reality and past is itchy grass to sit down in. Sometimes I observe my girls and wonder if they realized what I gave up for them, not just in my youth, but other path choices over the years, if they would pity me, feel unwarranted guilt or understand my love and what I thought was best for them superseded anything I could have gifted myself. I’ll never know because they will never know. Unnecessary truths and admissions can create burdens no innocent soul should carry. I see no need to ever go there…….
I’ve planned a meeting with my old friend. I look forward to absorbing her stories and her view of the world around her. I’ll look at it as a foggy confirmation or disenchantment of what could have been and in return, I’ll share with her what life having children out the gate of teenage-hood has gifted and shown me. Maybe we’ll look at each other and feel so disconnected it will be the last time we talk. Perhaps we’ll click like we once did and simply enjoy our different life perspectives. Maybe, just maybe, we’ll both envy a piece of what each other has had or has now and together we can thread a common connection once again.
On the bright side, when I do find myself slipping over the shoulder glances at where I’ve been I can straighten up, look forward and because of my past, I’m like totally in the homestretch of having children home 24/7 and at the age of 37 I couldn’t even comprehend, fantasize or swallow having a baby at this age. Hell—oooo Noooo to the double O.
What I really appreciate about perspective is that it has a nice resounding bitch slap when you need it the most~
In three hours time a bell will chime, ding, buzz, scream, announce and generally warn the valley that I live in—– school, is out for the summer. 
On Mothers Day I always realize how lucky I was in the family/Mother lottery. Of course, growing up I had no idea just how lucky I was to claim Momma Anna for my own. In those days, she was just plain old Mom, the one I pulled around on the rubber band and loved. I know I made her life a little (understatement) miserable in my teen years, but thankfully I came around in the end. My Mom was always there for me, in every sense of the definition of Mother, and still is. I know now that I was one of the lucky kids. I understand I am still lucky to have her as such an active and positive role in my life and that of my own daughters.. I say, luck, but perhaps I should just say, luck had nothing to do with it. My Mother worked hard at doing the best she could by me. For that, I am eternally grateful. Love you to the Moon and Back Mom~
Tomorrow is the big day. The holy Mother of all appreciation holidays. Not only do I look forward to how my daughters will spoil me, I get to spoil my own Mother. The whole day carries good vibes and I’d never turn my back on good Mamma juju.