Tag Archives: time

You Before Me

16 May

I know, I know, you think I got that wrong and it’s Me Before You, but, I am not wrong.

Let me explain: a few days ago Patrick, my son and I  were walking the dog and were talking about what should I do now that he is done with college. I told him I feel like all that rush, all that forward moving we went through for the past 12 years of public education came to a halt. Ever since I gave birth to him I’ve been focusing on him, making him my # 1 priority. His education, his wellbeing, his manners, his foundation, all of that has been my work, my goal nothing and no one could ever stop me from reaching it. I had a path and each step brought me closer and closer to the finish line, which we crossed together the minute he held his diploma.

I kept telling him that now he is done with school and I am done worrying (or so I keep telling myself). He is on his path and I am on mine. He will soon start working and will continue chasing his dreams while I need to figure out what to do with my life, my focus, my time. What to fill it with, which direction should I go, what to do. (You can call it a crisis, but I won’t, because I don’t want to jinx it and make it sound even more dramatic than it is. But it is dramatic and anyone who went through what I am going now, will tell you it is a life-altering time in any parent’s life whose child/ren finish their education).

I kept talking while he kept listening. (That’s one of the things I love the most when I spent time with Patrick; he is a great listener). Eventually we turned a corner and I finally stopped talking, waiting for him to say something. And he did, saying, “It’s actually quite simple, Mom. You need to go back to you before me. You before you had me. Find that 24 yr. old woman and see what she’d like to do. Focus on her, help her find her dreams.”

I know his words will remain engraved in my mind for a long time, maybe forever (with my brain’s will) and, while I do not want to be 24 yr. old again, I’d like to rekindle with my old self and see what treasures I’ve buried…you before me: where are you?

 

 

A tree atop a hill…

3 Mar

Here we are officially into the 3rd month of the year and once again I’m amazed how fast time just blows by. 

I remember as a kid back in communist Romania and going to school including Saturday, and how slow time crawled. Sometime after I turned 30 I experienced this rush and time did begin to move at a faster pace.

Anyway, this post is not about the lack of or how fast time moves but about how I chose to spend it. 

Last year I began March with a post that–in reading it now–brought back lots of memories. From having Mom here in the US, to my nephew’s health issues, to book appearances that post made me re-evaluate where I am a year later.

Right of the bat I can say I’m by far healthier. I began working out regularly and falling back in love with my own body. Anyone who struggles with her body image knows exactly what I’m talking about, right? I mean, we women have a tendency to be our worst critiques, aren’t we?

I’m also happier. I find that just looking at a cloudless sky  can make me really happy. Years ago, I was either too busy to observe the beauty surrounding me or that alone wasn’t enough; I needed something else or someone to make me happy. Now I can make myself happy with little things from a cup of coffee to a book to a manicure or as simple as holding my husband’s hand. 

I’m busier than a year ago. My day job is so crazy fast-paced that I find myself arriving at the office, blinking then 4pm hits the clock an voila: time to leave. I’m doing so much more that my job title no longer encompasses what I do: personal assistant, manager, travel agent, event planner, academic personnel coordinator and occasional shopper. A dear friend of mine who opened a spa asked me to help her getting it going in terms of front desk coverage. Between August  ’14 and January ’15 I worked 7 days a week. You read it right: seven days a week. The only time I took off was when I travelled or for book appearances. I’m now only on Saturdays at the spa, keeping my Sundays for all things household, hanging out with friends or (if the Muse strikes) writing all day.

In the evening I become mom and wife. Dates about two times a week, sometimes more. Patty Cakes (don’t tell my kid I posted this here, he’d be mortified) doesn’t need my help so much with homework since Tippy Toes really cracks the whip and pushes him to study more. I know the two nicknames totally grabbed your attention, but I promise to write another time how we came to nickname my son and his girlfriend. 

After dinner I once again become something else: writer. The places I go, the people I meet, the people I get to know inside and out, even their deepest secrets–there’s no way to really capture in words how writing makes me feel. With renewed energy, my fingers run over the keyboard, transforming the voices in my head in words on the paper, one story after another.

At times I envision myself a tree atop a hill, with deep roots, always loving, always feeding, always nurturing, always creating, always protecting, always growing…. I know Camelia is a flower but hey, if I wanna be a tree I sure can, right?

tree