History Repeats ...

 I remember being 25.  I had graduated from law school and had passed the Bar exam on my first try.  I felt invincible -- like I could do anything.

One day around that time, all my siblings and I were at our parents' house in the Bronx.  It was some occasion and we were all there at the same time.  The conversation was flowing and I don't remember how we got to regrets and failed hopes, but my father said something to the effect of that if he didn't have to work his whole life to support his family, he would have gone to school and studied philosophy or become a lawyer.  The sadness with which he said it silenced the whole room.  It was a rare glimpse into his psyche; and it made me feel as if he had sacrificed himself and his dreams for us.

When I couldn't bear the silence any longer, I said "Why don't you go to school now?  We are all grown and out of the house.  There's nothing stopping you from following your dreams now." 

He looked at me like I was a fool.  I will always remember his response:  "It is too late for me.  I am too old now."  And, as he always does when the conversation gets heavy or uncomfortable, he walked out of the room and didn't come back.  My father was 55 at the time.

The other day, Brendan and I were cuddling in bed, as we do every night before his bedtime.  He suddenly turned to me and said, "Mommy, you look a little sad and tired.  Are you not happy?"  I looked at him a little sharply.  Who would've thought 7 year olds could be so perceptive?

"I'm happy now," I said, obviously deflecting the question.  He looked at me again.  "Do you like being a lawyer, Mommy?"  A slight pause on my end.  "Sometimes," I finally answered.  He was quiet for a few minutes, then: "What would you do if you could do any kind of job in the world, Mom?"  No pause this time, "I would write full-time.  And I would be involved in the entertainment business somehow, either writing television shows or movies or even acting."

He scrambled to sit up and grabbed my face in his little hands.  "So why don't you do it, Mommy?"  My immediate response:  "Well, baby, I'm too old now." 

I am forty years old.  A full 15 years younger than my dad was when we had our conversation.  As those words left my mouth, I realized that they weren't true.  There is always time to do an about-face if you know you are going down the wrong path.  There is always time to reassess and get clear.  And there is always time to dream and have faith that those dreams will come true.

So, now, a month before my 41st birthday, I hereby re-commit to my dreams.  Not my childhood dreams, but the dreams I have now as a woman.  I vow to lead my son by example.  How can I tell him that all things are possible for him, but live with my own personal failure?  I don't want him to learn that when things don't happen right away, you simply give up.  I want him to be a fighter and for that, I am getting up and getting back in the ring.