Postcards from the past: Five winters ago

There was a lot going on that winter. It was 2005. Marshall Field's on State Street was turning over to Macy's. We were broke and it was a very cold and snowy few months. Lil E had just celebrated his first birthday and I kept a list of words that he said in the notebook where we once meticulously tracked times he nursed and napped. He crawled freely in our tiny apartment, made even more cramped by clutter and scrapbooking supplies. I was working hard for too little money teaching art classes to young children. I was in love with this tiny child, trying my very best to make being a stay-at-home parent as bright and happy and creative and fun as it could be. In many ways, I was very happy. Still, I was restless, had a nagging discontentment, wanting something more, something for myself.

What I didn't know then was that my first blogging job, which then led to my very first blog posts and this blog, was just around the corner on that year. I'd been trying so hard to find my way, exploring seminary and getting a PhD. to become an art therapist. I'd been home with Lil E his whole life and before that, had been chronically unemployed, miserable as a consultant, and freelancing my way through all kinds of here-and-there work. I felt like my career had been swallowed up by circumstance. But I used this photo in my application for a blind ad seeking parent writers that pushed me down a path that has become my profession and has survived a marriage, several moves, all those notebooks of baby schedule scribbles, and many more changes.

When I see this photo -- blurry and bundled up -- it reminds me of how elated it made me to have this family, to celebrate the holidays, to be able to momentarily set aside money issues and bitter cold weather and the exhaustion of a baby to be a part of the moment and the city.

I see how tightly I am holding on to my boy. I see hope's soft edge on all that is hard about the time.

I think to that woman, "Keep holding on. So much is coming. More than you can imagine is on its way to you."

Comments

[AmyinMotown]

I love this....beautifully written. I'm glad you found your path...and I am glad some of it has intersected with mine out there on the Interwebs!

[Cristie]

"I see hope's soft edge on all that is hard about the time." Perfect.I can't imagine a world where this wasn't your gig. What if we didn't hear what you had to say? That would stink for all of us.

[Chat]

Beautifully written. As you connect to this precious photo, I connect to songs. I could hear a song from five years ago and remember ,my feelings and dreams I had at that VERY moment....to realize now how most of them have come true. So in spite of the emotional hardship occurring now...I smile to think of all the good things that are on the way.