WHEN I WORE A YOUNGER GIRL'S CLOTHES

       

I flipped through a diary I had kept when I was 21 years old and felt like I was reading about a stranger.  This woman-child saw the world through the innocent naivity of youth.  Her goals were simple, her dreams far fetched, her problems shallow.  It was interesting though to note the comparisons... the differences, the obvious growth, similarities, and sometimes even the regression.

At 21 I didn't want to ever get married. Committing myself to someone else for a lifetime seemed scary and totally unnecessary.  Children were out of the question.  IF I were to have children, they would be adopted.  Newborn babies were ugly.

At 45 I have now been married for almost 22 years.  I am the mother of 5 children, all my own.  Just as well because truth be known, I doubt the State would trust me to raise someone else's child.  Newborn babies are still ugly... until they get all that goo wiped off of them.  Then they become the most beautiful and precious things I have ever seen.

When I was 21, I protested against any kind of animal cruelty.  My uncles hunted.  I hated that.  They convinced me to try some deer meat.  I hated it.  That made hunting even more of a crime... to kill for meat that in my opinion wasn't even edible.

At 45 I am an active hunter.  I still hate certain aspects of hunting, like the taking of a life and field dressing (all that icky guts and stuff), but it puts food on the table for my children and that makes it worth it.  I love deer and elk meat.  My uncles would have been proud of me.  I wish I could have cooked up some elk for them, they would have loved it.  (RIP Uncles Take, Hiro, Jun and Kiyo.)

At 21 I considered it embarassing to discharge gas in public.  My mother was very discret, I believe I really thought she couldn't fart.  I myself would run to the bathroom to avoid public humiliation.  Burps were always hidden behind a palm.

At 45 I let them all rip!  My kids blame each other for my indiscressions because everyone knows that Mommies don't fart!  Burps are measured by how far one gets in the alphabet. 'L' is the farthest I've ever gotten.  That won me the high praise of 'Good one Mom!'.

If I could go back in time and speak to the Me of Yesterday, what would I tell her?  Probably nothing.  I would probably just smile and let her be.  The journey to becoming the person I am today has been rich with experiences, good and bad, that have strengthened me and eventually led me to where I am now.  I would not alter one step for fear of changing the course.

And that innocently naive girl I saw in the pages of my old diary?  She's still there within the depths of me.  She peeks out once in a while, like when I held my child for the first time,  when I saw a bald eagle circling above me, when my son called me his best friend, when my husband took a dream of mine and gave it physical form, when I hear the mystical bugle of the elk at twilight.  She watches the shooting stars with me and welcomes the moon each night.  She marvels at the sunrise each morning, even when the 45 year old me is still asleep.  She urges me to drive through puddles,  kick up leaves and to walk barefoot in the snow.  She gives me patience when the 45 year old mother becomes harsh too with the children.  "Remember, you were young once too," she whispers.  The children, obviously, love her, this Me of Yesterday.

So to the one I once was, I thank you for all you were, for helping me to reach where I am now, and for keeping me on the path of discovery.  Its been fun, lets do it again!  But maybe next time... how about eatting a little less because that old saying, 'you are what you eat' holds true and dang girl, what the heck were you thinking!  Cut back on the fried cholesteral sister!  Could you do that for me, huh?  Maybe just a little?  If you don't, I'll warn you right now, you'll be packing 35 more pounds by the time you're my age and believe me, it ain't gonna be pretty!