Dreams

I do not remember exactly when I gave up traditional childhood dreams ~ like getting married, having a family, buying a house, etc.

In my twenties, I knew I did not want to have my own biological children.  I felt a pull not to overpopulate the earth while wanting to rescue a needy child.  I envisioned an older child ~ at least over five ~ and envisioned a child of color ~ as inspired by my lovely nephews who were just toddlers at the time.

It was not until my thirties that I gave up the dream of ever getting married.  I waited so long to even have a grown-up relationship ~ having never met anyone in college like my friends did ~ only dating wimps as my mother and father used to say.  But those dreams of getting married were shelved when I entered into what unfortunately turned out to be the most abusive relationship of my life ~ the horror of which I hid from most of my family ~ except my older sister and my friend ~ took four years to free myself ~ and to this day I still "watch my back" ~ even though I learned he is finally in jail.  I want to write about this experience in more detail or at least sharing my writings of my past, but I do fear that the harsh truth of what I went through would shock my family and friends to the core.  Only those few who really knew what happened would not be shocked  ~ only saddened ~ that my late thirties were taken up with such violence and fear ~ that only a person who has experienced something so similar could ever fully understand.

And so now, at age 45, I think back to those earlier dreams and wonder how they ever died ~ and what dream survived amidst all the chaos of the last decade.

And two words always come to mind:  New York ~

So yes, I still have dreams, and no amount of abuse could ever take that one away.

Oh, how I never should have told him that dream.  He always used to shove it right back up in my face.

"Oh, why don't you just go to New York and become a writer?" he would say in a mocking way that made me regret having shared such a personal childhood fantasy that I have carried with me since I was 10 years old and read the whole series of "All of a Kind Family" books about a big Jewish Family living in the Lower East Side of New York City.  

Then came "Little Women" with June Allyson playing my beloved character "Jo" ~ the writer who moved to New York to live in a boarding house to practice her art.  I became Jo for all of fifth grade and sixth grade ~ signing all of my letters as "Jo" to Nanny or to Mom and Dad when I stayed with Nanny in the summer.

It was My Mother and Father who made my dream first come true by sending me to New York City for the Summer of 1993.  I found the Martha Washington Hotel for Women Only and lived there for one month, running to the 24 Hour Post Office across the street from Penn Station to send my daily letter or postcard back home to Mom and Dad.  I spent $80 in note cards and stamps to create this travel journal of a lifetime.  Mom saved every one of them, and I have my own bundle of joy to relive the memory of the miraculous summer in New York City.

All of my life I have been fascinated with everything New York City, and all of my life ~ through all of the rough times in between ~ the dream of living in New York City never died.  Mom and Dad gave me the gift of being able to relive this life experience and relive this dream during any time of strain or stress.  I would walk the streets of New York City during these dark times.

And so now, for the first time in my life, the dream is completely within reach.  The resources are there.  The work experience has now grown to ten years at one university.  And there are jobs at many universities in New York City.

My dreams are back on fire ~ as they were never stamped out ~