My Desire

by Lydia Nolan

C (November 25, 2023)

Final- February 26, 2024

Thanksgiving had just ended and we were on to Christmas Day. Do you know how fast that had come to ending the year? And we had only four weeks to Christmas and I was sure it would be as though it were tomorrow; that’s how fast every year is going as well.

It is hard to fathom at times, and for some reason it makes me sad, that time flies faster and faster as we age. When I was young It did not used to make me sad, for when we are young we think life will go on forever. That sense is built into us, to believe life will go on forever… But I am a lot older now. I am in the WINTER of my years, and every day is truly a gift, every morning I wake I thank God for another day, I breathe and I sing actually, yes. I sing. At this point in the year I would surely sing Christmas carols, but sometimes whatever song comes to mind, I will sing it, as I am quickly losing all those memories too, so I will sing whatever comes.

I wonder many times if I will be one of those unfortunate elders who acquire Dementia. I pray not, but we never really know what comes for us in the future. So I wanted to share what kind of memories I have now, that I am in the winter of my years. First, let me say what used to be in my memories, when I was in the various decades in which I lived.

In my first decade, I remember the movies I watched and the words they gave in their monologues and dialogues. In the half-way point of my second decade, I remember I was always angry at my parents and I was easily hurt and then I wanted to get back at people in school that made me angry.

Sometimes though, I remember about those movies in the first decade, I memorized those monologues and dialogues–I was good at it too–and wanted to put on a show for the neighborhood. During that first decade, the teachers and the principal would not allow me to put on a show. I was not as fortunate as Steven Spielberg. Perhaps that was why I was such an angry kid, I was not allowed to express my creativity in public, and I was ignored in private. Unfortunately, at the end of my second decade, my memories were tainted with trauma. My father was killed in a horrific accident. I also married a young man who I hardly knew but I was with child. My child was born just after my father died and the delivery almost killed me becauseI hemmoraged. But my beautiful, sweet little baby girl was born and she was the only light in my life at that time. I spent the end of that decade being depressed and grieving over my father, and I suffered from (I am sure) after birth blues, but in that era we did not recognize such a thing.

By the third decade I was divorced with two children, and I was working for the government. But the end of the third, I was remarried and my husband was very good to my children, as his own, but eventually he left me for a younger model. I was devastated and while not proven, I think I became an alcoholic.

It took a long time for me to believe in my potential happiness. About ten years after we settled in court and I was divorced (again) I cast my fate to the wind and met a young man, and when I say young, I mean YOUNG–nearly 10 years younger. I tried to convince him we shouldn’t marry but he insisted he could handle two children, my home, and my lifestyle. It was bliss….for one year. After that, it was off and on for many, many years, most likely because I was young enough to appreciate the sensual ties.

After nearly 40 years we are together for good. I also had a third child, and that is what kept me with this man I think (besides our attractions) but eventually it went bad in a different way. He became handicapped, I became his caregiver, and we became loving friends in the same household,. I believe this is what marriage is really about: we had a wonderful son, daughter-in-love, and grand baby girl between us. My other children were much older by now and in their own lives, but what a fantastic two people they became; my daughter now has four children of her own. My son is single but such a great writer and human being.

The whole reason I shared all this with you is how time flies, but it is because I was not paying attention to the little beautiful moments, just the bad big ones. Of course, not everyone is like me. I happened (I think¡) to be a drama queen–either that or I was bipolar, before they had discovered that too. But my point is, I remembered the big, bad moments, until recently. I have become nostalgic and I remember so much good, even in my family: my parents, my siblings, my first young husband, my two children, my second husband and our happiness with my children, and my husband presently and the joy of our son and his life. If I look back, life has been a long and beautiful, wonderful, exceptional journey, and the only thing I believe I am complaining about is that it has to end. I and my husband both are at the Jumping off place (as death was referenced in the movie Fried Green Tomatoes).

Life really was long, but I was so busy grieving and fighting, despairing and worrying, I missed a lot of the good in it. Do not be like me, every moment should be sacred, especially the good ones. The bad ones are also good, because they are lessons to teach us to do better in life. I hope you read this and meditate on it awhile, and I hope I have MANY MORE DAYS in life to enjoy as well. Saturate your life, do not just run through it.

That was then…

This is now.