Having it All

When I was in third grade, my grandmother was 59, the same age my mother is now. When I was in third grade I thought my grandmother was old and couldn't imagine that she had once been my age. And when I was in third grade, my mother was the same age I am now. And my definition of what is old has shifted greatly in that time, so that now my 59 year old mother seems more like a sister to me, a peer. And my oldest child is now in third grade, and suddenly I am feeling old, questioning if I can still wear leather pants or halter tops, or if those days have passed.

I visited my grandmother this morning, another quick midweek visit, and in being there, I missed my daughter reading aloud a poem she wrote to her class. Her father went and took pictures and sent them to me, and yet I was still so sad to have missed it. Perhaps because of the state of my grandmother, or maybe I am prone to being melancholy, but lately I am acutely aware of how quickly life is racing by. I spent too many years sad and intoxicated and just burning daylight. With sobriety I gained a new found respect for time and that has been amplified in the past few years with the rapid growth of my children and simultaneous deterioration of my grandmother.

I know that my struggle to find balance in my life is neither unique to me nor a problem I will soon solve. I want to have it all, and my idea of what that means has changed drastically as I've gotten older. Having it all, at this stage of my life, simply means spending as much times as possible with my family, while still maintaining a career and meaningful relationships with a few close friends. That's it. That's what having it all means to me.