Visions

I was doing my thing yesterday, loading the dishwasher, thinking about a million other things, when I had a vision as clear as day.

I was older, but not elderly, and living in a little house very like my brother's, a little 1920s bungalow. It was clean (I love this vision), hardwood floors, floaty white curtains at the windows, and a yellow sewing room at the top of the stairs that was all mine. There was a pretty garden that I knew was all my work, and I had lots of projects to do with no deadlines.

But I was completely alone. No husband there, my kids grown and gone. Alone, but not sad. Why wouldn't I be sad? The main reason I work is because I hate being in an empty house. Where was Sweetie? Was he coming back? He wasn't doing the gardening (I could tell that--it would have looked better), and it was very much my house with my kind of stamp on it.

Was this a premonition? Not sure. Written in stone? Doubtful--I don't believe anything is, really. Hallucination? Quite possibly. Wishful thinking? Hmmm. I do think about the day when the kids are grown and gone. Sweetie keeps threatening to die on me, which I would smack him for if I were the smacking type. What if he's right, God forbid?

I must confess that I do get a bit lost in thought at the idea of having my time entirely my own. I think I'd head someplace warm where I'd sit in the shade with a cold drink and a cool breeze, lost in a good book and slipping off to sleep when the urge strikes. Not that I've given it much thought, really. I mean, who has time to fantasize about things like that when one has a house being remodeled and lovely children all around, not to mention hundreds of kids one could possibly be surrounded by at school every day. Honestly.

Not sure how happy I'd be alone, though. I don't want Sweetie to leave me, though the statistical odds against that are pretty daunting. I would hate for my children to live far away from me, as I do from my parents. Is it vain to think my family misses me? I do have four other siblings to fill the gap, but my kids are each completely unique and irreplaceable to me. What an idea to think that my mom and dad might feel that way about me.

I've always lived my life believing and completely accepting that everything is situational and transitory. No one (me) is so important that a substitute won't take the sting away from the separation, either temporary or permanent. Of course, I don't feel that way about others. I remember everyone and everything--nearly. But I have always believed that I pop in and out of people's lives like a flicker of a thought, neither remembered nor missed. It stunned me to know that old friends remembered my name, that my family missed me particularly, that my absence was felt. I feel so forgettable, yet there it is.

So I'm not sure about this vision. It's certainly not something I'm working towards. I like the chaos, color, and energy of my life now. I only imagined living this life when I was single and alone in my cozy studio apartment. But there is that whisper that intimates that if my circumstances do change one day, as they certainly will in some form, I will be able to find happiness and peace there.

Will my children miss me when they're gone? Enough to come see me? Will Sweetie miss me a little if he's waiting for me on the other side? Will he pick out a new someone who is a lot less irritating and likes philosophy? Don't know.

And that's the beauty of it I suppose, if one must find beauty in change, as we really must to maintain some sort of sane perspective. Our relationships and temporal situations change all the time, but our core is the same, the whisper of us that flits in and out of life. For all I know, I'm the one who goes first and my vision is the place I create while waiting for everyone else to join me. Either way, I know I'll be with my family again, and that they'll miss me as I miss them.