One day I’ll have a ring.
One day there will be vows. One
day there will be a kiss. And one day
there will be a house that becomes a home.
One day there will be babies who turn into toddlers who grow into
teenagers who mature in adults. And one
day there will be a set of rocking chairs on a porch where my husband and I
will look back and marvel at our life together.
One day.
But until that day, there will be today.
No checking in, no conflicting schedules, no need to find
babysitters, no house note, no family expenses, no lunches to pack—yes, I want to cherish this time in my life. Before we all get married, before we have
children, my friends and I can enjoy our time together and know exactly what it
means to have each other—to know the true meaning of friends. Road trips, movies,
holidays, special get-togethers, any get-togethers, coffee dates—all the while rejoicing
in times of sadness and celebrating in moments of gladness.
As Sara and I drove through Germantown tonight, mapping
out our targets, it occurred to me…this is such a precious time in my life.
Before I started this challenge I felt like I was just filling my time until he came along, waiting on him so my life
could start. Nothing could be further from the truth
now.
Instead of time being filled, I feel so full—my life is full
and happy, and satisfying.
I realized being single isn’t shackles and woes, it’s freedom.
And it amazes me how in just 40 days my perspective has
changed in extreme ways.
When I am married, when will I have random nights out like
this? When will I be able to drink
coffee at night? When will I listen to
rap music as loud as I want? How often
will I be able to just pick up and hang out with a friend? There’s an element of spontaneity that fades
when other responsibilities come into play.
Right now is the time to take advantage.
Right now is the time to develop and enjoy a full life.
Because one day, it will
be me and my husband. And we will share a life together. And it will be great. But it will also be different. The dynamics will change, and what once was,
will not be.
And one day when we sit rocking on our porch, reminiscing
of our lives together as our grandchildren play on the steps, I will think of
the road I traveled long before my husband entered my life. I will think of my friends. Our nights out. Our nights in. And how much God blessed me with this One
Year Challenge.
And as memories drift through my old, tired 80-year-old mind, the
phone will ring. I’ll slowly amble
towards it, cane in hand, and answer with a soft, “Hello.”
And on the other end will be Sara.
And I’ll respond, “Move if ya wanna if ya wanna if ya
wanna. Move, move.”
And my husband will shake his head. And I’ll laugh, remembering such a precious
time and the lifelong friendships I made in what started out as my darkest
year.
