Dreams Deferred and Reborn

Bouquet

Elegant Bridal Hair Accessories

Several weeks ago, Mom and I went to Hobby Lobby searching for wedding bouquet ideas. We walked through aisle after aisle of multi-colored flowers, trying to find the ones which most matched the scheme we had planned (burgundy and gold).

We walked. We browsed. We talked about my financial struggles and whether they would get better.

And as we talked and shopped, I thought about Mom and her life.

As a young adult, she worked a difficult night shift job she didn’t like to make ends meet and afford things she wanted, like her very first car. Around age 30, she moved home with her new baby and a loaded moving van to finish her college degree. As I grew up, she took up extra jobs to ensure I could own a horse, play my own saxophone in the middle and high school bands, and go to college.

As I reflected on all of her hard work and sacrifices, I thought about her dreams, the ones she didn’t see come true, like becoming a vet or a P.E. teacher or a star athlete.

But she became a teacher to ensure she had a steady income and the same vacations and days off I had. She educated multitudes of children, and some of them still visit her, letting her know how they’re doing and how important she was to them.

And she did all she could to make sure I had the opportunity to have my own dreams and maybe see them come true.

I was always a dreamer. Every time I had to write an “All About Me” essay in school, I got giddy with excitement when I got to the “What are your dreams and goals?” section. I wanted to be everything: a marine biologist, a vet, a farmer, a writer, a teacher, a member of the Navy, a jazz musician, a pro skater, a jockey, and then some. I filled those pages with dreams upon dreams, and I had my ways to get to them, even if they seemed impossible.

And here I am, working multiple part-time jobs, still struggling to eke out a living and begin a new life with my fiance, and I wonder if I’ve let my mom down. She worked so hard for me, after all, and what do I have to show for it?

I wonder if I’ve let myself down, because I don’t always know what my dreams are, and I don’t feel like I’m on the fast-track to reach any of them. They seem so numerous and sporadic, disjointed and unrelated, and I don’t know which ones to¬†pursue.

But as Mom and I went about our day, picking out my bouquet, eating lunch and dinner together, looking at bridesmaids dresses and arguing about where the reception should be and if the bridesmaids all needed to have the same style dress, I realized something.

Not many people accomplish the dreams they initially set out to do. And that’s OK.

Mom didn’t accomplish all of hers, and while I’m sure she feels the sting of those losses from time to time, I know she doesn’t regret having me in her life, even if the paths she took weren’t the smoothest. I haven’t accomplished all of my goals and dreams, because they change so often and the world isn’t always kind to dreamers, but I know I will always have the love of my mother, fiance, and others to give me reason, purpose, passion, and joy in this life.

For most of my young, life, I used to think not accomplishing your greatest dreams was the worst tragedy to someone could experience. I used to think it would result in regret and despair, the shriveling up of a soul like a raisin in the sun, as Langston Hughes described in “Harlem.” I told myself I had to accomplish at least one of my big dreams to find true satisfaction in life, or else I’d doom myself to a life of apathy, of going through motions and putting one foot in front of the other with no idea of where the steps would take me.

Now, I see this whole deferment of dreams as a mostly inevitable part of life.

Dreams come in and out like waves in a tide. As life happens, so do our dreams and plans. The flexible and willing among us adjust. They let their passion remain even when the dreams depart, and they fuel their new dreams with that same passion and joy.

Dreams can be for ourselves. They can be for the ones who come after us. They can be put on hold and then reactivated.

But as long as we keep the fire within us alive, as long as we continue to be surrounded and powered by love, we will remain alive, even when our biggest dreams die.

Reception Venues and Representatives

My to-do lists as of late are intense.

They include wedding planning, job hunting, and representative calls, and they all take up big chunks of my day.

My weeks include calls to reception venues, my representative and senators, and at one point even the Department of Homeland Security.

reception

Called a representative for this house (possible reception venue) and my representative in The House on the same day. Guess which one was less stressful?

I send messages to my parents, future-in-laws, maid of honor, and bridesmaids about dresses and decorations, and I share regular political happenings with my online community, encouraging them to stay up to date and accurate concerning their media intake and output.

I had no idea my life would turn out this way.

And here I am, writing, posting, calling, and planning, looking for reception venues, dresses, rings, petitions, and protests, living life in a way I never thought possible.

As I approached graduation, I expected to work with a church or faith community in a prominent role, maybe with youth or young adults, or even the whole congregation. I figured the political climate would stabilize within the year, and I wouldn’t be checking my news feed everyday to find some mind-numbingly awful sound clip from a politician. I knew Bryce and I would be getting engaged and planning a wedding, and I wanted work which would allow said planning to move forward.

So when I asked a professor for some help and advice in choosing a post-graduate career, and he asked if I had considered being an activist, I barely stifled a laugh (although I’m unsure as to whether I completely suppressed my look of fear). I thought to myself “Are you kidding? I’m too much of a nervous wreck as it is. I couldn’t be that involved without having several breakdowns.”

Less than a year later, 45 is in office, most of our representatives are throwing out everything instead of actually making anything new, and people (myself included) are taking to the streets and the phone lines to voice their discontent.

And in the midst of it all, I am planning a wedding.

I am planning for one golden day of love, hope, and peace in the midst of division, anger, and fear, a day for me, my husband-to-be, our families and friends to celebrate and remember.

This isn’t the climate in which I expected to plan such an event, but maybe it’s necessary. I hope it reminds me and those helping me that love, not frilly and sugar-sweet but tough and enduring, has the final say in who we are and what we will be.

I hope everyone has something, a wedding or otherwise, to remind them of this important lesson in these trying times.