Dreams realized

Last year after all the Christmas presents were opened at our house, amid all the neat stuff I got, I felt a little let down.  

It felt familiar, I guess, like when I was a kid.  Maybe you know that feeling:  You’ve tried to drop enough obvious hints for that great gift that you really want, but it doesn’t show up under the tree.  Back in the day when Mom & Dad were making Christmas for seven kids, a guy just accepted the ennui in stride.  After all, the stuff I did get was pretty cool, if not downright practical, and Mom & Dad did the best their budget could afford.

Last Christmas later in the day, though, I took a chance and talked to Cindy Lou about my disappointment.  As you might imagine, she was disappointed with my disappointment.  She loves me deeply, and she certainly expected the clothes given with love were just what Santa ordered.  

Somewhere in that difficult conversation, Cindy came to understand that I prefer stuff to mess around with on Christmas, not stuff to wear.  (I learned years ago she doesn’t want stuff to plug in on Christmas, so I go with things like jammies, jewelry, and books.  I reminded her, too, that our newly acquired Hilton Head timeshare is a Christmas gift of sorts designed to delight her every spring for years to come.) 

I have to say, I was very proud of ourselves for how we handled that difficult discussion last year.  She listened with her heart while I spoke from mine.  It hasn’t always been thus with us!   :-o  

Somewhere in all of that consideration about gifts and disappointments, I got to thinking about dreams realized.  In the midst of remembering cold and prickly feelings from childhood, my better angel had me look at the flip side of my things.   

I think it is fair to say that by the time a body reaches the age of 60, he or she must have some big disappointments to deal with.  It’s just how life is. 

On the other hand, by the time that same body reaches maturity, what wonders of the universe has she or he been blessed to witness?  

So here and now, at the end of one year and the advent of my 62nd, let me list a few of the things I am truly grateful for:

• A meaningful career as a public school teacher who tried to make a difference with kids. 
• Being a retired public school teacher with a pension. 
• Two lovely daughters, six amazing grandchildren, and a wife who loves me.  
• A warm, safe house in a quiet suburban Midwest neighborhood with thoughtful but not nosy neighbors.  
• Enough money to go to the grocery whenever we want.
• Good health and the ability to see a doctor when needed.
• A good education that has encouraged me to pursue so many curious, rewarding topics.
• Appreciation for how hard a bird’s life is. 
• The blessing of having found a loving church community. 
• Living at a time when computers bring magic into our lives.  
• Here at home, great places to sit and read, listen to music, and ponder the meaning of everything while not being tied up in knots of hunger.  

I could go on, but you get the idea.  My life has been and still is amazingly good.  I am a lucky man in a world where so many have so little. 

And the truly cool thing about most of my realized dreams is that I never even had enough sense to dream them in the first place.  But here, with a mindset of mindfulness, I recognize them and I am truly grateful.

Today’s Elder Idea:  

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Langston Hughes

American ‘jazz poet’