Saturday, September 12, 2009


I've always been a social creature. In fact, all my 5th grade report card said in the comments section was "My darling Katie. If we could get her to stop talking and start working, her grades would improve." A life-long challenge, I'm afraid.

I had plans. For everything. By 17 I was out every weekend, going here, seeing that. Busy, busy, busy. I'd kiss my parents goodnight on my way out the door. I watched them wave goodbye as I ran past them on the porch, and try not to wake them when I got home.

At 25 I had collected a few really cool stories to write home about. I had stamps in my passport. There was always a concert, or an opening, or a trip with good friends. Opportunity everywhere and I was not going to miss any of it. I had no responsibilities. No reason to say no. I jumped at chances. Letters home were filled with tales of my adventures and photos of beautiful sunsets.

Slowly, the tables started turning. As I took on new responsibilities, my parents released theirs. I started my career as my Dad was retiring. Bought a car and a parking space as they bought a boat (not a weekend boat you can tow behind your truck, a 40-something foot multi-bedroom boat in the San Juan Islands). I acquired a mortgage around the time my parents paid off their house. Thought about starting a family as their last child was finishing college. I was tying myself down as they were releasing their reigns.

Now I check my email for their letters of adventure. I study the photos of their travels. I haven't been a guest in their house for years. Instead, they stay at mine on their way to or from their destination of choice. I cry as they pull away to continue their life stories, and I miss them. They are free. Truly free. I dream as I drive to work about the day I can loosen my bindings; release myself from the responsibilities of the life I have chosen. Wander the world from port to port, watch the sun set with an umbrella in my drink and my toes in the sand. Until then, I can always live vicariously....

No comments:

Post a Comment