I Gotta Be Me!
As a child, sitting in the classroom listening to a teacher ramble on about things that I needed to know about life, just plain bored me. There were countless times when I was called upon for a correct answer, and I had no idea what she/he was even talking about. My report cards always had an “X” in the little square box that stated: “Daydreams frequently.”
In today’s society, I am sure that I would be put on combined medications to stimulate my mind as to allow me to mingle with the “straight arrows” of this world, and that black pox mark would follow me from school-to-school, regulating and influencing my life forever.
The only teacher who ever really accepted me for whoever I was, was dear Mr. Cunningham in the sixth grade. He laughed at my limericks, silly as they were. He knew that I was never interested in becoming a class president or student crossing guard. Instead, he had the ability to see deeply into my psyche when I stood up in front of the class reading my essay about what I wanted to accomplish in my lifetime, and he cheered me on. I got straight A’s in geography, because he made it interesting! We seemed to have a mutual understanding, this former Marine who served in WWII, and this eleven year old daydreamer from Pittsburgh.
When I joined Girl Scouts, I quit within two years. I could have cared less about how many badges I had on my green sash. Truth be told, cooking and sewing had to be the most boring projects on earth to me…both then and now. Why would anybody want to make a mess in their kitchen, eat it in five minutes, and then spend so much time cleaning it all up? Helping older people cross the street was something I was taught to do through my own family, so why would I want to get some badge for it? To this day, I just don't understand why folks have to be rewarded for all of their actions. I still so vividly remember selling soaps, cookies, and greeting cards to mostly cranky folks who really didn’t want a kid ringing their doorbells and bothering them while they were watching “Queen for a Day' and the soaps.
When I reached college, studying in my room for hours was not my cup of tea. My friend, Susan, and I would take long walks over the autumn-hued hills and discuss just what we wanted to do in life. Both of us were training to be teachers. However, we never spoke of children and the educational process. We spoke instead of rooming together near New York City, absorbing plays and visiting art museums, floating down canals in Venice, laughing with mimes in Covent Garden, and flirting with Frenchmen in Paris. While it was strange for any girl going to college in the 60’s not to have an engagement ring on her finger by the time she graduated, neither Susan nor I cared one iota. Life for us was indeed going to be a cabaret!
Later on, I married a super guy from New Jersey. His mother warned me that life would be very different for me because my husband and I would have to travel so much with his job. I accepted my fate with ‘steel resolve’ (HA)…and loved every single minute of it! We moved with our three boys to numerous places in New Jersey…four wonderful years in England…to Connecticut…onward to Virginia…and over to Singapore. Is it any wonder that I have wanderlust in my heart to this very day?
I have lived in the inner city, a city-state, the burbs, and now a small town. When we retired, we decided to move from New Jersey to The Outer Banks. Life’s little complications set in, so we moved to Savannah. Our children were grown and we both were still deciding just where the “Last Whistle Stop” might be for us. We thought it might be Culpeper.
We have two beautiful little granddaughters whom we love dearly. Our sons have made us proud. All three of them accept the fact that I was never a ‘normal’ mom. (: They love to goad me with questions as to where I plan to head next. God has blessed us all so richly.
So, just label me “The Mad Nomad.” We’ve raised our children and followed the rules in life. As hard as I have tried to shake it…whether becoming that “normal” mom and grandmother, cooking fantastic meals and sewing beautiful projects, becoming part of a small town’s atmosphere, I just cannot. I’ve been told to “learn to bloom where I am planted,” and well-meaning friends have asked me how on earth I could move so far away from my sons and grandchildren…have I a loose screw at this time in my life?”
As hubby has become much more like me (poor man), we both have now decided that at some point, we want to head out West. The snow-capped mountain ranges, wide open spaces, Mojave Desert in its majestic splendor, theater, music, laughter, and all of the spices of life continue to beckon to us. While we still have the hunger for new experiences, we just cannot pass up an opportunity in the future to live…not just exist. I gotta be me.
Until next time,
Pam