(By Elaine L. Galit)
Our house invariably had an aroma of "home." Scents like the mouthwateringzest of frying onions at dinner time, and crisp vanilla spice that wafted through the rooms during the day. But after six months wading through the loneliness of widowhood, I realized I didn't like the whiff of sad staleness now permeating the house.
I'd drifted through those last months as though half of me was missing. Not strange, I suppose, after forty years of marriage to the same man. But a day arrived when I realized I had to decide what the rest of my life would belike. Did I want to wander the empty rooms being half a person, or did I want to get out and see if I couldn't become whole again? And if I did want to repair my psyche, how would I go about achieving this metamorphosis?
My children and grandchildren helped me decide."You love to write, Mom," they chorused.
"Write a book."Write a book? I thought. At my age?
But how many times had I told my children to live their dream? It wasstrange, however, to realize I might be able to live my old dream; a visionswallowed up for so many years with housework, husband and children.
Not that I would change a minute of it; that was my life and I loved it.But it wasn't my destiny anymore, and, as the homily goes, the sooner I realized it the better. Time has a way of slip-sliding through your life and before you know it, your children are married and have children of theirown.
Let's face it, if life is made up of seasons I've got autumn challenging me,I thought. Did I want to find out what else life could possibly contain for me, or windup a shriveled, bitter old person? That question made me shudder. I'd always been an active optimist. Over the years when my children jumped from sports to dance and back again, I'd volunteered for everything from Girl Scouts,through mentoring youngsters, to vice president or secretary of the many clubs and organizations I'd joined.
Then, for eighteen years I'd run my own business, a candy and gift shop. Later I'd handled events and promotions for a local bookstore. I had what is now referred to as "life experiences."
So, did I want to start an other business? Volunteer somewhere? When my husband was alive, I'd published a few articles in various magazines. However, my children were correct; I'd always wanted to write a book. Before I had a chance to dwell in other areas, a new world opened up.
An editor, hearing about my desire to link my love of children with my love of Houston, approached me through a mutual friend. Would I write about Houston and what children could see and do in my city? Interesting - I'd tossed adesire into the universe and an answer had drifted down. Without anywarning, I had my chance to write that book. From then on, my life took off in another direction.
I spoke with a good friend and we tossed around ideas. Before I knew it, we were on our way. We'd write a special book. Forget the lists, we'd base ourbook on the core curriculum here in Houston. We researched, interviewed and photographed our way though museums, parks, science exhibits and the manyhidden treasures to be found in our city.
When the book was published, I glowed with pride and my children stifled"I-told-you-sos." But I was even more thrilled when a national bookstorechain named us "Authors of the Month" in our area, and a major literary group asked us to be featured authors for their annual literacy event.
Before we knew it, we had a second contract, and my world and work continued to expand. At the same time, trying for a social life and further development of my"right brain," I went to Sedona, Arizona, for an Elderhostel art sampler.While watercolor wasn't my thing, I loved working with colored pencils. Backin town, I joined an Artist's Way group facilitated by my co author and began colored pencil painting.
Once again the universe sent help in the form of a supportive and synergistic group of people who are not only talented, butshare their love of art and joy of living. At the urging of one of theartists in the group, I agreed to enter a local art show. To my great surprise, I won three ribbons and sold a painting. I could have stayed at home and felt sorry for myself.
Thank goodness I didn't. Oh, don't get me wrong; I did stay at home, but it wasn't to moan about my loss, but rather to work at fulfilling my life's dream.
While doing so, I was also filling my life with something meaningful.I've always known we have many choices in this world. The trick is to select correctly; don't opt to drain life, choose to fulfill life.
As I write this, I'm pursuing both my writing and art careers. And loving every minute of it.Yes, the fall season of life is a challenge. But I realize that when those lemons start falling from the trees in summer, it's wise to collect them. Autumn, especially here in Houston, is still hot. What better than to mix some lemonade with ice tea and sip while working on the latest project?
Action, the joy of living life, throws winter far into the future.
All the faces in the world are mirrors. What kind of reflections do you see in the faces of the people you meet?
