The Road not Taken
A veterinarian? A movie star? Those are two of the paths I thought I'd take when I was a kid. Animals were my first loves, and there were times when I thought our family dog, Louie, and later, my dog, Pepper, were the only ones who understood me. Throughout much of my childhood, I was fearful. I was afraid of the dark, afraid of being alone, afraid of my teachers, afraid to answer the telephone, afraid of sleeping. I'd lie in bed at night and hear every noise, every breath my sister took (we shared a bed for several of our growing up years). I'd start to doze and jerk myself awake because I knew if I slept, I would never wake up.
I remember getting out of bed in the middle of the night and finding Louie, sitting with him and pouring out my heart. He'd lick my face and I'd pet him until I had the courage to go back to bed. When Pepper came along, she was my dog, and she slept with me, so my late night ventures ended. We had other pets along the road, too: Nibbles, the rabbit, Tuffy, my hamster, a turtle, Friskie the cat-to name a few. I saved birds who had fallen out of nests and brought home strays. I never met an animal I didn't love, even going as far as taking bugs out of the house, so nobody would step on them. Animals helped me get over my debilitating shyness, and by junior high school, I began to find my sense of humor and along with it, freedom from the mostly self imposed box I'd been in up until then.
Before freshman year in high school, I knew veterinary medicine would be my future, but in an instant of horror, my road took a sudden turn. Standing at the bus stop, my hands in some guy's pocket (I was freezing, and he had one of those big jackets cowboys often wear with fur in the pockets), a dog ran in front of a car and got hit right there in front of us. I can still see it. At night sometimes, I hear his surprised yelp and then…nothing. Just like that, he is gone. I go back in time and relive it in my dreams. Why hadn't I noticed him before he ran into traffic? I was too busy flirting with cowboy coat man, I suppose. I cried until I had no more tears, and when I finally stopped, I had a light bulb moment. I knew then I could not be a veterinarian. I could not deal with the pain of losing animals over and over again. Years later, I realize I could have also saved many lives, but at the time, it was more than I could bear, so I gave up my dream.
Around the time I began college, a new dream took root-I had gotten the acting bug. On stage, I could be anyone. I could give up that shy, awkward girl who was me and become someone BIG with a big bad mouth and bigger hair. I could change my walk, the way I talked-I could even suddenly sing with gusto-probably completely out of tune, but I COULD! Already pregnant with my first child though, I quickly figured out that Hollywood wasn't likely to come knocking on my door. So I did the next best thing. I became a teacher. And even better, I became a mother.
As a teacher, I was able to use the gifts that I was given. My compassion and love for non-human animals transferred easily to the classroom. I had a special affinity for the shy and the misfits, the "bad boys," and "alternative" kids. I got to use the theatrical side of me regularly. Being a teacher, I think, also made me a better mother, and being a mother made me a better teacher. Both personas got to learn from the other's mistakes (and I made plenty) and successes. Most of all, when I look back over the years, my hope is that all of those amazing souls who passed through my classroom knew they were/are loved.
I don't regret any of it. In the end, the path I took became the right one for me. As Robert Frost wrote all those years ago, "Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back…"
I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be: a mother, grandmother, teacher, and a sometimes actor/singer just for the heck of it. And still, I have miles to go- but that's another poem and maybe another writing prompt on down the road!
You may have been a slow-starter but Girl, you really shine! I don't know how I've gotten such talented offspring. I don't want to say it's from the Rice side (perish the thought) but maybe it is.
ReplyDeleteI was the same way when I was little. Was afraid of my own shadow. I still check the closets (for monsters) if I'm out & come home. :)
Yeah, I'll admit to doing that, too- and under the bed! I prefer having a houseful of people over being alone, but I'm learning to be alone-sorta. Thanks-we have our own little mutual admiration society here! <3 Maybe that should have been the name of our blog...haha.
ReplyDeleteYup!
DeleteI will say the same thing on your post as I did on Mom's--that I think you have taken just the right path for you, and it continues to be! Glad none of us have any major regrets. I think that's the secret to a fulfilled life.
ReplyDeleteTrue! I learned somewhere along the road that only I can make myself happy and fulfilled, so I choose to be that most of the time. I stray now and then, but I usually can find my way back.
ReplyDeleteI never knew you wanted to act in college, Mom. I'm so glad you returned to acting. :) I think the secret to a fulfilled life is to not only not have regrets, but to keep on fulfilling dreams and to keep on dreaming! :)
ReplyDeleteI think that's why I feel I have no real regrets-because I've had opportunities to do just about everything I wanted. Do I wish I had done certain things better? Of course, but my goal now is to get better-be better in all that I do.
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