Very Last First Time

If it has not as yet become obvious, I have a huge love for children's books. Some are full of mystery and fantasy. Others stretch the imagination. Many are educational, carry a message, or teach us about other cultures. There are those that are inspirational in their themes and content. Finally, there are a few, just a few wonderful books that contain combinations of several of those elements.

One such story is that of Eva, an Inuit girl who lives in Northern Canada. Written by Jan Andrews, the book "Very Last First Time", tells the tale of how the Inuit gather mussels at the bottom of the sea in the wintertime. This activity is not only dangerous but an essential food source and integral part of their survival.

http://www.bbc.com/news/science-environment-12241053 

Eva has always accompanied her mother to perform this rather daunting task. The book tells about her experience and how it feels and looks when she does this by herself for the very first time.

Some of us have vivid memories of things that we achieved for the first time. Some events aren't recalled at all. Some of these times may have involved accomplishments or experiences. Some may have been pleasant, frightening, or an adrenalin rush. Nonetheless, the events that we remember best, were probably firsts in our lives.

I remember my first time riding a bicycle. Why wouldn't I remember?  It was a huge deal until I crashed unceremoniously into a curb. I was attempting to negotiate a right turn onto a ramp at a south Ajax strip mall. Nobody ever told me that I had to turn the wheel into the curb. I picked myself up and looked sheepishly around to see if I was noticed. I didn't care that I was scraped and bleeding. All I was  hoping was that nobody witnessed this twenty three year old woman riding a a bike for her very last first time.

What other firsts do people remember...a first date perhaps, the first day on a new job, the first time giving birth, the first time driving? How about first time in a kayak going over rapids, the first time hot air ballooning, scuba diving, or mountain climbing? It doesn't always have to be a huge event, nor does it have to mean that there'll be a second time. The thing is, the first time will never happen again will it?

Today, as I was walking through our mall, I saw a pillow in a store window. I wasn't certain whether it was for sale or not, but that's never stopped me. I negotiated a deal with the sales person and off I went. What a wonderful reminder of a great book, and the many firsts in our lives. Sometimes, we take their relevance for granted. Other times, we settle into a routine of safe, sameness and forget that there's much more in the world that, no matter what our age, we can discover and experience for the very last first time.

My Fantasy Life

I've had a fantasy. Yes, I'll admit it. It's nothing juicy. It's not even particularly interesting or weird. Some people create possibility boards and charts. My possibilities are all in my head. They're all up there like tiny bubbles ready to burst for my consideration. For example, I dream up prime parking spots and great ones appear. I surrounded myself with a longing for Paris and voilà. All my thoughts don't have to come to fruition to be pleasant and fulfilling. Some do. Some don't.

For some twenty years now, I have been driving past a little house in a town near here. It hasn't been in a weird, creepy, stalker kind of way. No, it's been more admiring, thoughtful, wishful. A few times a year when I was in that particular town, I'd check on "my" house. It once occurred to me to knock on the door and ask the owners to call me if they ever wanted to sell. That moment was fleeting. I wasn't certain that I wanted to retire and be responsible for a house. I noticed that the other homes on the street were newer, larger, and more stately. They were all on the west side beyond a large tree and did not appear to be encroaching on my perfect little place

I used to imagine myself living in this house. It's small. In fact, it's tiny and doesn't even have a garage...just a makeshift wooden carport that looks like an animal stall next to some open space.

I can't tell you what the appeal has been. I just always saw myself wearing a long, loose, flowy, flowered dress, giant apron, straw hat and carrying a trowel. I'm not that sort of person, but that's what I imagined. Further, I saw myself in the same outfit sans apron (not much room for a lot of varied clothing in that little dwelling), sitting on a stool in the yard, painting at an easel. I am not a painter, but in our thoughts, all things are possible aren't they? Wildflowers would adorn the yard and living space in the summer. I'd eat freshly picked berries at an outdoor picnic table while reading a book in the good weather. I'd be holed up next to the fireplace with a warm afghan, a hot chocolate, and a book in the winter. In my mind, the house had a fireplace.

After I married, I still drove by past the house from time to time...just not as frequently. Then one day, I saw it...a FOR SALE sign! I rushed home to check MLS and was thrilled to finally see pictures of the inside. Lovely, just as I knew it had to be. Not much in the way of square footage. In fact, a one room apartment in New York City probably has more space. It sold fairly quickly, at a price far too high for such a property, but I thought it was worth it. Someone else obviously loved it too.

I haven't thought about this little house for some time. Today, on a whim, I drove past. I was horrified! There it was, sitting innocently like Carl Fredrickson's house in the movie "Up".  It was overshadowed and almost swallowed by what can only be described as a hideous and gargantuan monstrosity. The larger houses were still off on one side and the site of the empty lot near the carport now had this.

Clearly, this was becoming someone else's dream. To me, it's a nightmare.

What can I say? All my little fantasy bubbles burst at the moment I saw this. My flowy, flowered dress disappeared, as did the easel, and the paints. The flowers in the garden wilted. The picnic table collapsed. The books were gone and the fireplace vanished. Now there's nothing left but a sad and empty space in my mind where there were once lovely pictures of an adorable little house and an imaginary life.

Older and Hangin' In

I'd like to say that it's hard to believe that I was born 62 years ago today, but really, it's not. Sometimes I think back over my life and all the things I've squeezed into it and I'm actually amazed. For some of what I've done, I have to say, I'm lucky I survived. For other things, I'm proud and satisfied. I have no regrets and I still look forward to future experiences.

The key for me used to be to "learn or do at least one new thing each day". Now, I try to learn or do something new each week. After all, I've slowed down, and I'm retired.

I look in the mirror and I still see me. It's an older, well ok, much older version of me, but still me. My body has received a few bumps, bruises and scars along the way. It's added some pounds and some "freckles". My knees are achey and my 20/10 vision left me around the time they started making the print in phone books smaller. By the way, does anyone use phone books anymore?

My hearing is still good, although I am now limited to listening to one conversation at a time at a crowded table. I am also still adept at "selective hearing". This skill was once particularly useful when trying to get 5 year olds to raise their hands rather than shout out in class. If it became intolerable, I would simply look them in the eye, put one finger on my lip and raise the other hand in the air to demonstrate what they ought to do. Wouldn't it be great if this would work with polititians?

My teeth are my teeth although the fillings keep getting larger. I still have a few hairs on my head and I'm stubbornly keeping the "mature" colour hidden as much as possible. Not that there's anything wrong with the colour gray, it's just that I'm a "spring" in the seasonal colour palette and gray just doesn't look that great with those warm shades. Besides, I'd have to get a whole new wardrobe to match...hmmmm.

I consume a couple of drugs a day but am relieved that I do not yet need one of those giant plastic containers with compartments that say, Monday, Tuesday etc. or, as I like to call it a "pill suitcase". Besides my multivitamin, I take one pill for blood pressure and one for heart burn. The inhaler is not compulsory, but it's nice to have whenever I have difficulty and feel the need to breathe.

I think that my IQ is still at a reasonable standard although I'm sure I've lost a few points over the years. Crossword puzzles are often nothing more than printing exercises without much challenge. I love language, literature, poetry, music and art. Science and technology fascinate me. I am in awe of the wonders of nature and the world around me. History has developed new meaning especially since I am now part of it. Money and the economy are and will remain mysteries.

So as they say, "this is the first day of the rest of my life". I am realistic. I have sometimes glanced at the obituaries and have been amazed at how many people have died at an age much younger than my current 62 years. I have been very lucky. I think I have a lot of life left in me and a lot of goals and dreams to live out. I'm hoping for many more birthdays and will consider myself fortunate should I be given the ultimate gift...that of more, healthy years. We shall see.