Today

Today I paid off my student loans. For a few moments, I stared at the screen and my eyes filled… 18 years it took me. 18 years and I can’t quite believe that it’s done.

I remember staring at my payment schedule when I graduated. All of my education was financed with federal loans. And the four jobs I worked in college paid for living expenses and books. The payoff seemed so far away. I was 23. So much had transpired during those years of study.

When I first began, my plan was to pursue travel nursing. I’d graduate, gain my first two years of nursing experience at my community hospital and then I’d go travel the country as a nurse.

Being a mother was still a top goal of mine… by 29 I said… back when 29 was “old”. After three years of pre-nursing, having applied and been accepted to an esteemed state university for Nursing school, that summer just before I began my two year nursing program, I discovered I was very unexpectedly, pregnant. In that moment, everything changed.

I moved four times with my baby, that year that I graduated. My future felt so uncertain. But I had a degree, a career opportunity and I was determined to make it.

I stayed local, never leaving that community hospital where my journey first began. Her Dad and I found a way to build and then re-build a relationship and marriage to last. And from his previous marriage, our relationship, and a journey in foster care, we now parent six children legally and have nine that we love as our own. I am an 18 year experienced nurse, charge nurse, educator and perinatal bereavement coordinator. Three years ago we moved into our dream home on nearly two-acres in the country. It’s modest compared to many, but it’s quiet and open and everything that we asked for.

Today, that 19 year old that I held in my arms at graduation, is on her own journey of self-discovery. I miss her when she’s not at home. But I quiet that ache with memories of myself at her age. She is her mother’s child. My younger three are off in North Carolina with my sister, their aunt, and uncle and cousins for the week- “cousins camp” they call it. My sister was just beginning her college journey there, when I was wrapping up mine. After she graduated, she put down her roots there. And now part of my heart belongs to NC.

Today, I sit on the front porch of what I hope to be my forever home, my sanctuary. And in the quiet that I so rarely get, I am listening to the birds- so many songs across my green acres. I’m watching my chickens hunt worms in the misty rain that soaks the plants I’ve planted here- once small, now growing full and robust. My husband calls, “Think about where you want to eat tonight…” It’s a date- sans kids- when he gets home. And when the kids return next week, my house will be full again, bonus babies included- my full fridge will be empty and shiny floors, dull and littered with shoes. And after that, a 3 week road trip around the country.

I capture this rare opportunity of solace to reflect and write.

It’s not often that I allow myself to go back and think about my life in my early 20s. It was complicated in so many ways… and hard. I made mistakes. I suffered setbacks and heartache. I worked really hard and I was often very lonely. But this milestone that I reached today and the quiet of my home, took me back to that place- Back to the sparse apartment, to the piles of books and mostly empty fridge. Back to the swollen belly, exhaustion and tears, the daily drives and walks through the city campus and clinical sites, the forever low account balance, the white uniform and the push to succeed and provide for my tiny baby.

I wish I could go back and tell that lonely, scared and very tired girl, that it was all going to work out. That there’d be more blows… bigger blows in fact than she’d ever felt, blows that would leave scars… but her tenacity and grit would pull her through again and again. And a beautiful life would emerge nonetheless. That her loneliness would transform to a circus of children, a zoo of animals and the non-stop antics of her husband. That her fears would build into confidence and wisdom. That while she may never achieve high financial wealth, her life would be rich in love and fulfillment. That she would one day travel and adventure. That along her messy and unconventional path, with time and intentional hard work, she’d become the nurse, wife and mother that she wanted to be. That she would one day know the love that she then craved.

But if I did go back, I don’t know that she would believed me. That girl of 23 had known so much pain and loss, that this life, as it stands, would’ve been unbelievable.

Sometimes, when we are in darkness or at a crossroads, the future is hard to see. Sometimes it looks bleak and lonely, uncertain and very, very different than what we once planned. Sometimes the ache of lost hopes and dreams is heavy and deep. But what my own life, losses and grief have taught me, is that life is forever evolving. Wherever life finds you today- It won’t always be like this. You won’t always feel like this. Those two very simple truths, have helped me weather my greatest pains and soak in my greatest joys.

18 years ago, I never would have predicted that my life would look the way that it does today. I am living a fucking fantasy. It is so beautiful that in my tender moments, I marvel at all that I have… and then I fear losing it all, because I know that nothing lasts forever. And yet, it’s still filled with challenges. And that fear of impending loss, I’ve learned, is likely a trauma-response. I have been hit so many times with unpredictable and astoundingly painful blows, that I sometimes wince without a strike. I prepare to lose simply because I’ve lost before. I brace myself because I tell myself that it hurts less that way and nothing good will stay.

But it isn’t true. Preparing for an imaginary loss does nothing to ease the pain, it only robs us of our current joy. And dwelling on the past, holds us hostage from the marvels of the present moment.

Today I took a quiet stroll into my past, like a visit to my old neighborhood. I looked around. I remembered. I felt. And with a respectful nod, I left. While that place helped to build me, it also helped to break me. Who I become now, helps to build tomorrow. Looking into the horizon, I can’t help but wonder what lies ahead… the gains or losses, the celebrations or hardships… and I once again avert my gaze. That’s not for today…

Today is for chickens to feast on rainy day worms. To feel the soft purr of my cat at my feet and the quiet snore of my pup next to my tall, soft bed. To soak in both the quiet and the song. To marvel at new flower buds, racing hummingbirds and rambunctious young squirrels. For a much anticipated date with a man who makes me feel cherished and loved. To enjoy a clean house and a mid-day glass of wine. To draw a smiley face next to “Paid in full”.

For it is these moments that make yesterday’s storms worth weathering… and fill my tank for whatever energy tomorrow might require.

I’m learning to sit with today.