On yet another day on my way into the building, another monday, another hour earlier than many, kids in tow, howling, "For the love of god, if he likes to eat the waffle frozen let him have it!" a tiny phrase was uttered.
Henry, our substitue custodian was there to unlock the door. I asked him how he was and he said, "Livin' the dream Mrs. Hamilton, Livin' the dream."
I wasn't until later that night that Henry's comment started to resonate in the back of my mind. Like one of those bad 70's flashback, Henry's head floating in circles above me, taunting...."living the dream". Surely Henry's dream isn't to be a substitute custodian, despite his beloved status at our school. Then again, why not? He's a skate bum, works hard, plays hard, has great skater hair and a lift kit on his truck. He's 23 of course he's living the dream! Doing what he wants when he wants in order to live the life he wants.
A new head joined the 70's flashback, mine... what about me? I want to live the dream! Don't get me wrong, I LOVE being a teacher, it's a calling and I am brilliant at it. I adore it, I adore my students and they each know it. ("Sorry I made you crazy today Mrs. Hamilton, but you know I love you. Yes, Dylan, I know, Ditto. We will try again tomorrow!")
But over the years, I have felt like more and more goes into my students leaving less and less for my own kids. And the effects had become so obvious, my oldest slipping further and further behind, my youngest rarely having ever seen me without my laptop open and papers around my recliner at night. It was becoming harder and harder to ignore that my students were getting the best part of me. So, Henry, what is the dream we are living?
What would living the dream look like? It wasn't a mansion in Cali, not even a beach hut in Mexico. It was exactly what we spend a few weeks a year doing. Camping with our kids! Turns out we are pretty easy to please and when it came down to it, we really could be living the dream. So why not? If you could live your dream, wouldn't you?
It's not the years in your life, but the life in your years that matters in the end. I think Lincoln said that. So good luck and bon voyage! It would be interesting to see how much stuff you give away. Take some pictures of the garage sale. Going from a house in St. Louis to a small apartment in Brooklyn, we had to give away or sell 3/4 of our belongings--maybe more. I can't think of anything I truly miss--except maybe a barbecue grill and a porch on which to grill, but you've got that one covered. If you come East, Lewis and I could meet you on the beach somewhere in Connecticut, or anywhere that is on the MTA train line (http://mta.info/mnr/html/mnrmap.htm). Of course, you are more than welcome to come to Brooklyn, but parking an RV here...well, I've never actually seen one in these parts.
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