One of my grandchildren once told me that she couldn't wait to be grown up like me and be a grandma. I thought that was rather strange since she was in elementary school at the time. When I asked her "Why?" she told me "So I can do what I want. You get to." I started thinking, and I realized that she was right--I CAN do what I want, after I take care of my other roles as wife, mother, daughter, and 7th grade science teacher (but teaching 7th graders is a WHOLE 'nother story).
I often tell young people that they shouldn't wait until they are 48 to climb their first mountain. I did that back in 1998 when I went to Alaska with Outward Bound--and I was 48. I had made a "bucket list" of things I wanted to do before I died--long before "bucket list" became the buzz words that they are today. Climbing a mountain in Alaska was on the list. When I arrived, 6 of the ten young people on the trip were younger than 2 of my children and 2 were younger than my oldest. Needless to say, they looked at me with concern that I would make it--until the girls saw my tattoos.
It was especially meaningful for two reasons to do this and prove myself at 48. I had just recovered 3 months before going from 2 broken ribs that I got when I stupidly stood in my socks on a wooden chair to remove wallpaper border. I slipped and came down VERY hard on my left side demolishing the chair as if I had karate chopped it to pieces. The doctor told me that I shouldn't go because if I hurt myself in the Alaskan mountains, it might be hard to get medical help. But no way was that going to stop me. I actually had recovered quite quickly and was given the go-ahead.
The other reason was that my father died at the age of 48 from a massive coronary, and I wasn't sure how that medical condition might affect me. My father wasn't the outdoors type--neither is my mom, so who knows where I got the urge, but every time n my trip that it became extremely difficult, I thought of my dad and drew strength. In fact, when I stood at the top of Mt. Ascension, I broke down because I knew that after 5 hours of hiking up about 5000 feet that I had reached that place in my life--literally and figuratively--that I could check this off my list. I was both proud and sad--proud because I had climbed higher than I had ever had in my life and sad because I knew it was done and I probably wouldn't do it again. The one thing I tried to impress on the young people I was with was to look around and take in everything. Time really does go by fast.
After that I knew it was time to go home. I finished that second week and told our guide that I had to go. When he asked me why, I said, "Because I accomplished what I came here to do." He tried to convince me to stay, but I knew that I was tired and to continue at the pace we were going--and with my knees screaming at me despite 6 to 8 anti-inflammatories in 24 hours--I could become a disability to the group. It was important that they remembered me as someone who was stronger than they thought, younger than they imagined, and smarter than they believed any one my age could be.
As I told Sandy, "I want to go home because I miss my family, and I'm leaving because I can."
I'll check back in a couple of days and tell you about "Sunday Mornings with Tommy."
Luv you--Moomom
