When We Were Young

When We Were Young.

The day started out just as any Tuesday morning does: I’m running late getting the kids in the car, my son is sitting on the floor with his shoes staring at the ceiling making faces in an attempt to see just how much I’m bluffing on the “you will go to school with no shoes” threats I make every Tuesday morning. My daughter is looking at me suspiciously from her car seat, having not been to school since the prior Thursday, that long four day weekend that she has every week always catches up to her and she’s trying to remember if she likes school or not. When we are finally all set, I back out of the driveway as Adele’s newest song fills the car. “When we were young”, she croons, and I think to myself, how old could she have been? Didn’t she title her album 25 after her age? How young is young, 15? What do 15 year olds know about anything in this song? On and on it went as we drove to school, but as it would happen, it’s January and January is nothing if not a time for reflection. Fifteen, what was I doing at fifteen? Instantly, I flashed to last night’s episode of The Good Wife, which also had a reflection vibe. Long story short, the main character, Alicia, found out that a message was hidden from her, a message that would have given her a choice, would have provided a fork in the road. Instead, it was hidden so she would not have that opportunity; hidden so that she would have to stay small and not stretch herself to her full potential.  All she had left was to wonder what could have been. Deep. Very deep. This is all a bit much for 8:15 A.M. when I’m already late for school drop-off. “Let’s come back to this sometime later when my mind can give this a full once over”, I think. But I notice that something is trying to get my attention.
I decided that I would take myself to the movies while all the kids were in school because:
1.) I just survived an activity-packed winter break, and
2.) Let’s face it, when else will I get a chance to go to a movie that’s not rated G OR about the mob on a date night.
I chose Joy. Spoiler Alert for anyone who still has yet to see Joy, but it’s a period piece set back in the era when I was young. Can you feel the serendipity flowing? There is a scene where Joy is reading her daughter a book about an insect who burrows for exactly 17 years and then re-emerges. It’s not quite clear what happens when it emerges, but Joy isn’t feeling the book about a 17 year reclusive bug. Until she dreamed she was the bug per se; she remembered herself and how she had given up on a piece of herself exactly 17 years ago. After her 17 year hiatus from living the life she was destined to live, she reemerges and claims what was rightfully hers. She was the reclusive insect, and now she’s a badass bitch. Enough Said.
Now, I don’t know about you, but of course I did the math to see what I was doing exactly 17 years ago and wouldn’t you know it, that was the year that I graduated from high school. Serendipity. flowing. Now maybe Hollywood isn’t exploiting my need to reflect in January, or the fact that I’m looking out over a whole new year wanting it to be the year everything falls into place…just like in the movies. Wait isn’t that a line from Adele’s song this morning? No. Focus. This is a higher power at work here, and it’s got something to say. Flashing back again to The Good Wife, the episode ends with the evil secret-keeper telling a campaign manager that she dropped the ball because she failed to see how Alicia was really the star of the show this entire time. That she was never really the background, the prop behind her husband, like the campaign manager believed, as Alicia’s husband believed, heck, even as Alicia believed.  But the bonafide star who has been hidden…doubting…waiting…(and quite possibly, it was for 17 years. Now that would be tooooo spooky, but you get where this is going). Reclusive insect.  Badass bitch.
So what is this all to say? All this Reflection. Waiting. Emerging. Serendipity. I think we all know. On a side-note, I had just been reunited with a NorthFace vest that truly had been lying dormant for the past 17 years (hidden in my sister’s closet, no less). It was the vest I wore for my senior pictures in 1999, and as fate would have it, I wore it to the movie that day. Badass bitch. 2016, let’s do this.