{"id":620,"date":"2016-09-18T10:31:34","date_gmt":"2016-09-18T15:31:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/?p=620"},"modified":"2019-06-07T15:47:17","modified_gmt":"2019-06-07T15:47:17","slug":"four-feet-at-a-fork-in-the-road","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/index.php\/four-feet-at-a-fork-in-the-road\/","title":{"rendered":"Four Feet at a Fork in the Road"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/p>\n

My daughter stood, firmly planted in her exasperation on the side of the road that bright October day, refusing to move and begging me to listen.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom!\u201d\u00a0 she pleaded, \u201cCome here and just LOOK.\u00a0 Seriously.\u00a0 MOM.\u00a0 Listen to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nononono, I responded firmly, turning my back and edging away.\u00a0 Now is not the time.\u00a0 No, I can\u2019t, I really, really can\u2019t.\u00a0 Come on, we need to go.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom,\u201d she grew more insistent, unrelenting.\u00a0 \u201cMOM.\u00a0 Look.\u00a0 Mom, really, listen, you\u2019ve been talking about this for years. What are you waiting for?\u201d<\/p>\n

That last question got me.<\/p>\n

Weakened in the shadow of this blatant truth, I turned back around to look in the direction she was pointing and stopped still to think.<\/p>\n

The temptation at the other end of her gesture was, she knew well, a childhood dream that had been dogging me for years.\u00a0 I had tried twice before to make this dream work, but I couldn\u2019t.\u00a0 The failures bruised my heart in a surprisingly deep and lasting way.\u00a0 I wasn\u2019t tough enough to try again.\u00a0 I wasn\u2019t ready.<\/p>\n

On the other hand.\u00a0 What was I waiting for?\u00a0 More time, more money, a bigger house, someone to share the burdens?\u00a0 Hell, while we\u2019re on this road, how about a winning lottery ticket, a bestseller, rich lover, an unknown treasure, discovered on Antiques Roadshow, to auction for my fortune? How ridiculous was this thought process, these milestones that never get closer in the hazy, unforgiving distance that is the future?<\/p>\n

What was I waiting for, to trust I could use my own two hands to make one tiny, little-girl\u2019s dream come true? What does that take, exactly?\u00a0 Stubbornness, stupidity, faith?\u00a0 A heart that\u2019s open to what is difficult and exhausting and expensive?\u00a0 What does it cost, a little dream, and what is it worth?\u00a0 Do I have the courage to laugh and agree when people look at me and say, Have you lost your mind?<\/p>\n

Standing there on the side of that road, staring at this temptation just as my daughter knew I would, I felt something else push its way in and claim a chair at the table of this argument I was having with myself.\u00a0 It was a powerful, maybe slightly perverse, desire to look at this differently.\u00a0 To claim some ground for the dirty, the messy, the disruptive and difficult things that might be at the very root of love.\u00a0 To speak up, for once, and say, I don\u2019t care how hard it is.\u00a0 I want to do it, I can do it, I will do it, and that should be enough.\u00a0 Doubters, hit the highway.\u00a0 To the practical, the perfect, the always clean and controlled:\u00a0 I am not your girl.\u00a0 To the slightly wacky, the challengers, the figure-it-out-ers and the carefree, I\u00a0 didn’t start out on your roster, but I want on your team.\u00a0 Order me a jersey.<\/p>\n

So I took the few steps back to where my daughter was standing and reached out my hands.\u00a0 And said, with just a smidge of mother’s sarcasm, Okay, FINE.\u00a0 Alright.<\/p>\n

Let me hold the puppy.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

__________________________________________________________________<\/p>\n

Author\u2019s note<\/strong><\/em>:\u00a0 This memory is offered in honor of my best pal, who just had a birthday and joined our little household ten years ago next month.<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

My daughter stood, firmly planted in her exasperation on the side of the road that bright October day, refusing to move and begging me to listen. \u201cMom!\u201d\u00a0 she pleaded, \u201cCome here and just LOOK.\u00a0 Seriously.\u00a0 MOM.\u00a0 Listen to me.\u201d Nononono, I responded firmly, turning my back and edging away.\u00a0 Now is not the time.\u00a0 No, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":1875,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[12],"tags":[18],"class_list":["post-620","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-mid-life-adventures","tag-madeline-basset"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/620","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=620"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/620\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1875"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=620"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=620"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gmachronicles.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=620"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}