SOMEDAY DREAMS
by
Shirley Frost
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2012 by Chuck Grossart
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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INTRODUCTION
What follows was written by my mom, Jackie Grossart, in 1985, using the pen name 'Shirley Frost'. To this day, it remains one of the most touching pieces on the realities of living--and growing older--I've ever read.
My mom lived a full life; she was born in October, 1923 outside of Golden, Colorado, and went home to God in February, 2003. In between, she lived, loved, and lost, as we all do, but these words, crafted with the help of an electric Royal typewriter in the little room that became her office after her kids were grown, truly captured the joys and pain of living. All the accomplishments and regrets, all the moments of glory and happiness, all the terrors of injury and illness, all of it...captured in a little over nine-hundred words.
My mom loved to write.
I hope her words touch you, as they continue to touch me.
Chuck Grossart
February, 2012
Bellevue, Nebraska
Broomfield, Colorado
1985
***
As I approach the brink of old age, time has become of the essence. It is so important to me that I realize all of my remaining dreams. Father used to tell me, “When you reach your later years, my dear, time slips away so fast. You’ll see!” How right he was.
I know that as I look back upon all of those precious years of youth, which are now long gone, within most of them are compiled lovely memories to have and to hold forever.
There are times when I wish that I had gone more slowly, and perhaps less impatiently through the early years of my life. But, all in all, it has been a good life. There is a lot that I would not change. If it were possible to relive those early years, I would deal with some periods differently. Those words that I left unsaid...I would speak without hesitation. The deeds that I left undone...I would gladly perform. And those experiences which were never felt...I would embrace with open arms.
Now, as I’m obsessed with the need to achieve, to try everything that I passed over while raising my family, I am sometimes almost defeated by others’ reaction to my increase of ambition and my incessant need to write.
Becoming a writer is a rather solitary existence. Much of my time is spent in my writing room with the door closed to the family. However, I’m happiest when I’m sitting at the typewriter...realizing my “someday dreams.” At times, it is hard to remember that I do have others to consider besides myself.
There are days which are less productive than others; sometimes a day seems to melt uneventfully into another day. For instance, an approaching storm darkened the sky today...and also darkened my spirit.
I’m certain there must be a plan and a purpose in everything that has taken place in my life, just as there is beauty and purpose in the eruption of today’s gathering storm. Although, I expect there is seldom a time that anyone looks at a storm calmly, or removed enough to see the beauty.
This very day began as any other day. The early morning dawned, and the outline of the mountains became visible. Every crevice was silhouetted against the morning sky. The point at which the mountains flowed into the plains became markedly visible.
As the sun appeared on the eastern horizon, it resembled a great, red ball of fire. Momentarily, it bathed the distant mountains in a pink sheath. The windows of houses which faced the east resembled great, fiery eyes as they reflected the redness of the sun. There was a stillness as the earth wakened.
When the sun reached out to the shadows, they receded, and the mist rolled away into the crevices of the mountains. The sun’s rays struck everything, the trees, the grass. My lawn came alive with sparkling diamond-drops of dew. A flock of black birds landed to glean a feast of worms from the wet earth.
After a while, the warmth of the sun striking the mountains caused clouds to form. They gradually darkened in promise of more to come. By late afternoon, the thunder rumbled across the heavens and seemed to envelop all.
The rain pounded the landscape, and the wind began to whip through the trees. Angry clouds boiled across the sky. Now, miniature lakes and streams appeared...where before, there was nothing but dry, thirsty ground.
Then, as suddenly as it began, the rain stopped. The violent storm subsided, and there was again stillness. The freshly washed air smelled clean and brisk. As this day ended, the sun began it’s descent into the western horizon. It outlined the remaining clouds in a glorious shade of orange, and the landscape softened as night approached.
When the sun began to sink, a robin redbreast sat atop my CB antenna. His song rang out while he watched the sun disappear behind the mountains. I’ve come to anticipate his vibrant caroling each morning and each evening. I like to think of it as a doxology.
Of course, now I see the reasoning behind all my questioning and reflections! There is a parallel between life and an ordinary day like I’ve just described. Recognizing this parallel is God’s way of making me aware of all my surroundings so that I can appreciate all that I am...and all that I have.
Don’t you see: Birth, and the years of early childhood with the carefree period of discovery, are represented in the dawning of a new day. It’s the new beginning. It’s the beauty, and the warmth of the sun as the earth wakens.
Then comes adult life and the approach of middle age. There is a feeling of having lived life fully by experiencing all aspects. This encompasses happiness, sorrow, and all else between the two extremes. This period is represented by the time of the sun’s rays bathing everything in beauty. It is a time of nature’s creatures partaking of gifts of the earth. It is the storm clouds forming, and a promise of more to come...even an occasional storm erupts with the healing rain restoring moisture to the parched earth. And finally, the excitement and turmoil lessen. The rumbling storm ends as suddenly as it began. All is now serene.
Old age is a period of mellowing, the storm has ended. The landscape softens as the night approaches. Mr. Robin gives his praise to God from atop my antenna.
How blessed I am, for I do know that in my lifetime, I have experienced the reality of God.
***