What's in store? Who cares!
I've never had my palm read. I've never even been to a fortune teller. And yet when I was in college, I wanted nothing more than to catch a glimpse of what life would look like for Sara (then Gretter) in the years to come. I wanted to see myself at 30 years old first, because at 18, 30 seemed SOOOO old. (Don't I know better now!) My next stop would have been 65 years old - thinking that by then, I would have retired and started my next phase of life - the live-it-up-while-winding-down phase. Of course, I've never caught a glimpse of what's in store for my future, and now, I know why.
When I was 26, I was diagnosed with lupus. At different times over the following few years, I lost all my hair, hobbled around like an old lady, and sported red, swollen, bulbous joints - all in all, not my best look. Do you think I would have understood what was going on had I seen that vision in my teens? No way! I couldn't even wrap my head around it in my 20's!
Even after I got my disease under control in my early 30's, life didn't look like what I would have expected it to - no kids, no job, just me, sleeping the day away with a pill box always at my side. Had I seen that that was the future in store for me, I would have asked for my money back. But fast-forward just a few years after that, and guess what I would have seen? That's right - a happy, healthy, vibrant 35-year-old, with a 9-month old adorable baby by my side and a book with my name on it. Who would have guessed! I realize that the old phrase "one day at a time" has never been more true - there's no need to look past today. Tomorrow will always be there - who knows what it will look like, but we'll find out when we get there.
That said, I have to admit that the "one day" phrase doesn't do much for me anymore. Maybe I've heard it too many times over the years - but the meaning is lost and I can't even really appreciate the sentiment when I hear the phrase. I think my dad feels the same way - which is why he recently shared the following with me - it was as if he knew I needed a fresh, new substitute. Here's his take on the subject - check it out:
I can do today.
Not bad, huh? It's almost hip, you know? And my dad would be the first to admit, he's not that hip of a guy. I think it's the plaid flannel that gives him away. Even still, he came up with a good one this time. Kudos to you, Dad - and keep the good ones coming!
When I was 26, I was diagnosed with lupus. At different times over the following few years, I lost all my hair, hobbled around like an old lady, and sported red, swollen, bulbous joints - all in all, not my best look. Do you think I would have understood what was going on had I seen that vision in my teens? No way! I couldn't even wrap my head around it in my 20's!
Even after I got my disease under control in my early 30's, life didn't look like what I would have expected it to - no kids, no job, just me, sleeping the day away with a pill box always at my side. Had I seen that that was the future in store for me, I would have asked for my money back. But fast-forward just a few years after that, and guess what I would have seen? That's right - a happy, healthy, vibrant 35-year-old, with a 9-month old adorable baby by my side and a book with my name on it. Who would have guessed! I realize that the old phrase "one day at a time" has never been more true - there's no need to look past today. Tomorrow will always be there - who knows what it will look like, but we'll find out when we get there.
That said, I have to admit that the "one day" phrase doesn't do much for me anymore. Maybe I've heard it too many times over the years - but the meaning is lost and I can't even really appreciate the sentiment when I hear the phrase. I think my dad feels the same way - which is why he recently shared the following with me - it was as if he knew I needed a fresh, new substitute. Here's his take on the subject - check it out:
I can do today.
Not bad, huh? It's almost hip, you know? And my dad would be the first to admit, he's not that hip of a guy. I think it's the plaid flannel that gives him away. Even still, he came up with a good one this time. Kudos to you, Dad - and keep the good ones coming!
Comments
Talk soon - SG