At the end of the hall on the left, in the home I came of age, there is a closet. It’s sole purpose is to hold brooms and vacuum bags and occasionally a calendar would be tacked on the outside. I’m not sure why, but 11 years after the house was sold, that closet appeared in my mind’s eye this morning with a vengeance. The center hall closet arrived also – again, unannounced and with no purpose, but full of tupperware bowls, sheets and old memories just the same.

Perhaps it was my daughter’s emerging womanhood that brought these doorways to life. A smell; perhaps. Clearly, I can see the calendar. The year is 1978 and I am turning 12 in just over a month. In honor of my birthday, we are flying to Florida to visit my grandparents snowbird home. I’ve never been on a plane or to Florida so I am beside myself with joy. The calendar was counting down the days one x at a time. The characters on each page were popular then – I cannot remember the name, but I know there was a fat cat and a pig. Mary Myers pops in my head, but I cannot be assured I am correct.

I find it strange that all of these memories are surfacing of late – a new creative spark bringing me back in time calling to me to write these stories down while at the same time, enjoying a newfound freedom as the mom of older children and a traveling husband.

I cannot recall the last time I had such freedom. It’s summer, yet my kids are not at my feet begging to be entertained and my husband is on a plane. I have a car, time, and money and the ability to go where the wind takes me. I thought I’d hate this phase as a long time stay-at-home mom, but the balance is settling in my bones, and I am loving the freedom.  It won’t last. School will begin again, college kids will move back “home,” and those still with me will begin the homework, soccer, friends, need a ride routine that is my life, but somewhere in the peace of the last few weeks, I have rediscovered my voice. I have started to remember who I am – not was, but am, and where I want to go. Aging has a lot to offer both good and bad, but as of today, I am fascinated with the next phase of this ride. I realize, too, that there are thoughts I must share with my husband. We’ve been married 23 years and together for 32, and I’m not sure I’ve kept him up to date on who I’m becoming. I think it’s time to come clean and share. No doubt some of it, he knows, but it’s time for a more shared role. One that allows me some room for decisions and him less power – a position I’ve allowed him for too long.

Alpacas in party hats, a new loom, a spinning wheel; perhaps, and a newfound voice to express who I really am and what I want. Yup, I could get used to that.

Fascinated to see where life takes us. What paths do you hope to travel?