You Can’t Always Get What You Want

Last week I blogged about A Job to Experience.  I appreciate all the comments from others about their first jobs.  Our collective trip down memory lane reminded me that when I was in high school, and looking for that first job, I had friends that worked at the community library.  I thought that would be the perfect job for me.  It checked off a number of the boxes which I considered ‘good job’ criteria, AND I could hang out with my friends. 

Job that I wanted, working at the local library.

• Wear nice clothes
• Keep an eye out for the latest new fiction releases                                                          
• Closed on Sundays and holidays

Job that I got, working in the kitchen/dining room at the local nursing home.

• Wear ugly, hot, uncomfortable uniform
• Keep an eye out for bodily fluids
• Weekend/holiday shifts start at 6:30am (Go figure. People want to eat every day of the year.)

As I eventually concluded, I absolutely got the ‘right’ job for me. It was a great life experience and I remember my coworkers and the residents fondly. The lessons of compassion, joy of life, resilience, and empathy have been priceless to me. I hope I was able to give back a little, and that what I did made a positive difference for someone, considering how much I received.

I believe in the axiom – What is meant for you, will be yours. I’m not sure when that realization came to me. I suppose it came as a slow growing realization as I lived my life. It wasn’t a lightbulb moment and even when you believe it in your heart, it can be easy to forget when you’re dealing with the real life disappointments of not getting something that you dreamed and wished for.

In no situation was that more evident than in my wish for a daughter. I never really considered that I might not have one. I have two sisters and we have always been very close despite our age gap. My oldest sister was 13 when I was born, and I was 13 when her daughter was born. My other sister has two daughters, each of my brothers has a daughter, and when you throw my mom in the mix, we have a wonderful bunch of strong, loving, clever, and fun women in our family of which I am proud to be a part.

When I became pregnant, I celebrated with my sisters. And even though I hadn’t had a gender confirming ultrasound yet, I just kind of knew I was having a girl. I could ‘feel’ it. And as we began to prepare the baby’s room, I filled the dresser with cute little hand-me-down dresses that my nieces had worn.

At twenty weeks the ultrasound revealed I was having a boy, and I cried. In retrospect, I know that sounds terrible. I should have been grateful I was going to have a baby – a healthy baby. But I was young and oblivious at the time to such things as infertility and miscarriage. Those lessons would come later.

“I don’t know what to do with a boy,” I fretted to my mom. And in that sometimes hilarious, yet practical way she had of saying things, she said, “Well, at the beginning it doesn’t really matter. He’ll just be a baby. And by the time he gets big enough to be interested in ‘boy things’ he’ll have grown on you.”

Almost 30 years later, it is scary to look back and think that I ever wished for someone else to be my only child. That’s the other thing I never considered. I have four siblings. I thought having an only child was a terrible thing to do to someone. And yet here we are.

My son is the greatest gift I have ever received; (the answer to one of the questions in my 1000 Things journal.) He’s smart and funny and kind and generous. We like to read and go to bookstores together, play video games, argue, and drive each other crazy. We’ve highlighted each other’s hair, sung along to Broadway musicals, and assembled 51 jigsaw puzzles during the pandemic. He patiently explains, and repeatedly answers, my questions about Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. He was meant for me.

I continue to be close to my sisters and my nieces. And fortunately, my sister with the two daughters has been willing to ‘share’ with me over the years. That’s another gift, and I would miss it if I sat around being sad that I don’t have a daughter of my own.

Who knew how profound and resounding the words of Mick Jagger and Keith Richards (both 24 years old) would be when they wrote and sang, “sometimes, you get what you need”?