Living my Real Life.

We all make plans. 

And so we should. 

But do we really have any control? 

Let me start out by saying I have a good life. I really do. And for that I am grateful. 

But is this the life I actually had planned. No, no it is not. 

Forty years ago I was a 15 year old with a boyfriend.  FORTY years ago. It hardly seems real.  For surely I don't feel even 40 years old. 

My boyfriend had a really decent job that he loved. Although, truly he loved days off more. 

He loved nightshift. Hated dayshift. 

In 2017 he started counting down. After every dayshift he would come home and say "112 more dayshifts left." Or "I can do this 98 more times."  Or however many days he had calculated he had left. 

For years we looked forward to October 25, 2020.  The day Albert would turn sixty. The day he would retire from Canfor after 42 years. The day our real lives would start.

I read once "life is what actually happens while you are waiting." It's so true. We are always waiting for something. Waiting for graduation day. Waiting for the baby to be born. Waiting for Christmas. Waiting for the mortgage to be paid off. Waiting for the vacation. Waiting for payday. Waiting to retire. Waiting for the wedding. Waiting for the bus. Waiting for the pandemic to end. 

It seems we are always waiting for something so our real life can begin. 

And life happens while we are waiting. 

We grew together, and separately, into who we were meant to be. And October 25, 2020 never did come for us. 

We married young. Raised three beautiful children, and buried another in infancy. We welcomed and embraced grandchildren who brought more joy and fulfillment than we could have imagined.  Real life stuff. 

I have been living my real life all along. 

Yes today, whatever the date, is your real life. Live it.