Where's The Fire?

For some reason, I have been in a hurry my whole life. I remember having an argument with my parents when I was very young. I wanted to buy some candy, and they wouldn't give me the money. In fact, they never gave me any money.

The definition of "allowance" was unknown to my parents. This had never been a part of their culture. Why should they give their children money? If we needed something, we asked. If it were school supplies or clothes, my parents would buy it. But money for doing chores? Not likely. If we didn't do our chores, we got sore butts.

In any case, from a very young age, I developed a very independent streak. I wanted the freedom to buy what I wanted when I wanted, and the freedom to...well...just plain do what I wanted without being told.

In the midst our argument, my father told me that when I found a job and made my own money, I could then buy whatever I liked. It was my money, I had earned it and I could spend it on anything.

OK, deal!

Did I mention this argument took place when I was 9 years old? I clearly remember getting the newspaper, opening up the classifieds section and making some phone calls. (Sometimes I miss my naive, courageous 9-year old self).

My first call was to a hair salon. They were looking to hire a shampoo girl. This, I could do at the age of 9. When I called, I asked to speak with the owner. I mentioned that I was looking to be their shampoo girl. She asked if I had any experience, and unfortunately, I did not. When she asked my age, that didn't go over so well either and she hung up the phone. I did not have much better luck with anything else I saw in the newspaper.

The next day at school, a priest came into our classroom (I went to Catholic School.) He wanted to know if any of the students were interested in working in the Church Rectory after school. I raised my hand so fast, the poor priest had no idea what to think- but there it was. I did it. I had a job!

I met with the Rectory Manager the next day after school and she explained all the job duties. We would have to stuff the Church bulletins with the inserts for that week. Also, a cook would come in every evening to prepare dinner for the priests and any guests they were hosting. We would have to serve them dinner, then clean up the table and load the dishwasher. We also had to answer the Rectory's phone and take messages.

Every Wednesday was a half day at our school. On this day, instead of working at the Rectory, we worked with the nuns in the Religion School. Here, we helped them file paperwork and make copies. Also, the teachers who taught CCD would bring in their children while they taught class and we would play games with them.

Once a week we were paid in small orange envelopes. It was the best day of the week! I started off making $3.00 per week and eventually got a raise to $3.50. I was so happy!

My parents were very supportive. They felt I was getting a great learning experience and maturing. Looking back, I definitely agree and have no regrets. I had the freedom to run down the block with my friend to the local candy store and buy whatever I wanted- and I didn't have to ask anyone for the money!

While many people might think its wrong to start working so early, I appreciated it. But I was always in such a hurry to finish things quickly. I graduated from High School at the age of 16 because I started school early. I graduated college in 3 years because I was in such a hurry to get my degree. Now, I look back and wonder why I was in such a hurry? I realize that I never really experienced many things because I was too busy thinking of ways to take shortcuts or bypass something so that I could get to the end of it.

That's the way life is today for many people too. Few people stop to smell the roses. Few people slow down to appreciate the experience and the ride, and instead focus on the finish line and the end game.

What Are Little Epiphanies?

Many High School's are now celebrating graduations. High School seniors around the country are celebrating their freedom. No more teachers, no more books...until college anyway.

I clearly remember my high school graduation. I fondly remember it as one of the best days of my life. I don't have too many fond memories, but it was my first real experience with an epiphany.

My High School graduation was held on the football field of my school, under a tent. It was one of the hottest days of the year. People were sweating, the graduates were sweating. Imagine being under gowns in a hot baking sun. (Not all of us were beneficial enough to get a chair under the tent. My seat was just outside it in full sun.) I also got a bad sunburn to go along with my new diploma.

We had rehearsed where we were all walking the day before, and all of us just wanted this to be over already. We were seated in alphabetical order- which meant that none of my friends were seated by me. When they finally announced a congratulations to the class, everyone threw their graduation hats up in the air.

And that's when it happened. It was like time suddenly went slower. Everything was in slow motion. I looked around and everyone was hugging each other. I didn't hug anyone because my friends were too far away. And a thought hit me. It will always be like this. I will be looking at others, sharing the joy with them but never really fully experiencing it myself. And I just accepted it as truth. It was a comforting epiphany, not a terrible one. It's just the way it is.

I looked at it like a sign- a warning that I should prepare myself for a life like that. I was not depressed or frightened by this little epiphany, I actually felt blessed for the sign.

I felt it to be true and I wasn't scared. I've never told anyone what I experienced that day. Its still hard finding the words to describe the actual experience, and I'm not convinced that I have done a good job of it now. But life seems to be filled with these little moments of clarity, and I am still in awe of them.

I appreciate them, I usually look forward to them. But mostly, I accept them.

So Easily Forgettable

One of the things that has gotten to me is how easily forgettable some people can be. One day, a person is your best friend, the person you rely on for everything. The next day, they are no longer that friend you call first, the one whose opinion is important to you, the one whose advice is needed. Over time, they just slowly disappear from your life and before you know it, you haven't spoken in years. This is not because one of you did anything wrong. It just happens. You've forgotten about them, or they've forgotten about you. Perhaps someone else entered your life- a new love. Or perhaps you've moved and are no longer in the same area. It happens.

People lose touch all the time. Lives intersect at some points, then life can slowly take people in two different directions. But some people seem to have lasting friendships that see them through everything. These people are spectacularly lucky- and I hope they realize it.

Friends are so important. They are a person's support system, the people who will float you through during a tough time. I have never before been so aware of this. Not until I didn't have it.

I fell. Hard. And no one was there to catch me. No one was there to support me. No one cared.

This was not because I had betrayed or harmed my friends. We all just moved along with life. She was busy. I was busy. Before we knew it, we hadn't spoken in months...then years. People I saw everyday or now the people of my past. They used to be so important. If they were though, why didn't we find time to talk, spend time with one another? How was it so easy to lose each other.

How was it so easy to forget and leave behind what seemed like a great friendship?

Not the Perfect Life

30-something years old and still no home to call for myself. I know there are people worse off than me, but remember when mothers would tell us to finish all of our food, even the green stuff we hated because there were starving kids in Africa? Well, I kind of feel like that- don't tell me to be happy just because other people are worse off than me.

As a matter of fact, I live in a rich town. I mean, really wealthy. These people have private jets, big mansions, and fast cars. Imagine living in a town like this and always feeling like the help. Not so fun.

At my age, I really thought I would be more settled. I think people are actually surprised by how well I am taking my "loser life." They are surprised I am not more embarrassed by things- like driving a 16-year old rusted Chevy (who is aptly nicknamed "The Tank".) I don't wear fancy clothes, don't have lots of money, and I...can barely admit this outloud...but I still...live with my parents.

There, I said it. The sky didn't fall. I wasn't struck by lightening. But yeah...I have failed to thrive. I still live with my parents.