Before I die, I want to earn my living writing books. Here’s the interesting thing, when it comes to this part of what I want to do before I die, I’m not sure that I care too terribly what kind of books they are. I don’t care if they are smut or deeply good, important books. I just want to make my living by writing them. Before I die. So, sometime in the next sixty years if I am lucky.
Sometime before I die, I want to attend a Tori Amos concert with my daughter. It’s been a dream of mine since before I ever had her, and when it became clear that she loves Tori Amos, too, my dream only intensified. One day, we will sit in the audience together. Maybe we’ll hold hands. Maybe she’ll ignore that her mommy cries half of the show. Or maybe she’ll cry too.
Before I die, I’d like to see my daughter grow up to be as authentic a person as she can possibly become. I want to see her grow into her body and her spirit, which as always been so large. I want to be present as she her grows into her warm, sensitive, beautiful heart. I want to see her adult smile, her womanly strength, her rounded edges, her beauty in whatever form it takes. I want to learn from her as she learns from the world. I want to be the student to her teacher as she matures into someone I had no idea would even exist when she started out in my womb. I want to witness the end result of her genes, her upbringing, and her own special nature. If there is one thing in this world that I want to the exclusion of all others, this would be it.
Before I die, I want to see my daughter become a woman.
It has been occurring to me lately that I’m almost forty. That’s not so very old, but it’s not so very young either. The time has passed for letting life slide by me without planning or effort, belief in years to come in which stuff will just simply ‘snap into place’ for me is no longer reasonable. Life has taught that, yes, sometimes good things just fall into your lap, but sometimes you have to decide to make them happen, too.
And so, it has come to this. Unless I actually admit in some real way to the twenty-five things I most want to do before I die, then I might not even know what they might before it is too late. I’d hate to be too old to travel and realize, “Gosh, it’s only just now occurred to me that I’d have liked to see Paris in springtime.”
Another thought that occurs to me about owning up to Twenty Five Things I Want To Do Before I Die–this is such an intimate question! I’m not sure I can answer it with complete honesty in this public space. The truth is there are things I want to do that are so incredibly unlikely simply because of a lack of talent or ability that it is embarrassing to admit to longing for it. But, hey, vulnerability is a good thing, right?
So, I’m starting a series of twenty-five things I want to do before death. Once a week for 25 weeks, I’ll post one of the things I want to do. I’m vowing to be as honest and vulnerable as possible, though I am not vowing to post them in order of importance, because that would be too difficult and lack spontaneity.
See you next Tuesday with the first one.