This week it's the turn of the group leader, Cheryl Shireman to share her inspirational story with us.
I Burned My Bra For This? One
Woman's Fantasy
By Cheryl Shireman
I’m a Baby Boomer. Which means
that I remember bell-bottoms, Happy Days, and having only three channels on the
television. I played Donny Osmond albums on a record player. My parents watched
Gunsmoke, and on Sunday nights we all watched The Wonderful World of Disney. In
the living room. Together. On the only television we owned. Imagine that! I
remember the first time I saw Bonanza in color. I remember the first time I
heard about remote controls for televisions. The whole idea seemed ridiculous.
With three channels, really, how often would it be needed? I remember the
Watergate hearings playing on the television when I came home from school.
I also remember watching
feminists (does anyone use that word anymore?) burn their bras and march for
equal rights. I grew up believing that a woman deserves equal pay for equal
work and that a woman is not defined by the man she marries or by the children
she gives birth to. In fact, we were told that both men and children were
optional. The idea seemed revolutionary at the time. It still does. Women were
mad as hell and they weren’t taking it anymore. We called it Women’s
Liberation, and though it was never said, it was certainly implied (and
believed in most circles) that a woman who did not work was a bit inferior to a
career woman. That was when such women were called housewives and not “stay at
home” moms. Women were divided into two groups – those who worked and those who
didn’t. Back then, no one thought that staying home and taking care of a family
and home was work. The women of my generation wanted more, demanded more, and
believed we were entitled to just that – more. We sometimes looked at our own
mothers, most of whom did not have real
jobs, as women who simply did not understand that there was more to life than
being a mother. If truth be told, we thought they were a bit simple-minded and
we secretly vowed to do more with our lives.
And yet…as this Baby Boomer looks
at her life, I realize nothing I have ever done, or will ever do, is as important
as being a mother. Not career, volunteer work, graduate school, or any creative
pursuit. Nothing else even comes close to being a mother. Period.
One of my children lives half an
hour away, another is one state away, and the third is on the other side of the
world in Denmark. Yesterday, my husband and I spent the entire day with our
two-year-old granddaughter. She then spent the night. As I write this, I hear
her gentle breathing in the baby monitor positioned atop the table close to
where I sit.
To say that my children, and now
my granddaughter, have filled my life with love and joy is an understatement.
As children, they expanded my heart in ways I could never have imagined. For
the first time in my life, I not only understood, but received unconditional
love. As adults, they are three people that I know I can always count on. They
will always be there for me. Just as I will always be there for them. Can you
say the same about your career?
There used to be a television
show called Fantasy Island. People visited the island and lived out their
fantasies – no matter how wild (okay, not that wild – this was primetime family
tv in the seventies). Not too long ago, my husband and I had a discussion about
that old tv show and asked each other – What would your fantasy be? Mine was
easy. If I could have a Fantasy Island day, I would relive one day with my
children. My son would be 10, which would make my daughters 4 and 2. We would
spend the day doing whatever they wanted. Going to the park, going to the
movies, playing games, baking cookies, or just sitting on the floor playing
with Legos and Barbies. I would hug them a lot. And kiss the tops of their
heads. And take tons of pictures. I wouldn’t cook. I wouldn’t clean. And I
wouldn’t worry about my career.
I would watch my son show his
younger sisters how to do things, like he always did in his older brother sort
of way. I would watch my 2 year-old daughter follow her older 4 year-old sister
around the room, shadowing her every move. Just as she did, even through their
college years when they shared an apartment near Indiana University. I would
watch the older sister taking care of her younger sister, as if she were her
baby. Which is what she called her when she was born – my baby.
Bedtime would be later than
usual on that fantasy night. I would tuck them into their beds, fresh from baths
and smelling of shampoo. The girls smelling like baby lotion. My son would hug
me goodnight with his long skinny arms and tell me he loves me. And I would
feel the truth in that. I would tuck in my girls and tell them it is time to go
to sleep. I would take extra care in covering the older girl’s feet, because
she always kicked her blankets off during the night. I would kiss the baby and
hold her a little longer, because I would know that, as I type this she is in
Denmark which makes visiting tough.
And, as I walk down the hall and
turn out the lights, I would call out to all of them, as I always did…
“Goodnight. Love you. Sweet dreams. See you in the morning.”
And that would be my fantasy
day. Oddly enough, it has nothing to do with my career as a writer. Even though
being a writer has always been my dream. My first novel, Life is But a Dream:
On the Lake, was published earlier this year. The main character, Grace Adams,
is a woman facing an empty nest and the possible demise of her marriage. Grace
withdraws to a secluded lake cabin to redefine her life and try to find a
reason to continue living. While at the lake, Grace not only finds renewed
purpose and hope, but when things take a turn for the worse at the lake, she
finds a strength she never knew she possessed. The novel is thought-provoking,
sometimes frightening, and often funny (just like life). It is also, very
definitely, fiction.
I'm not Grace. Even though my
“nest” is empty, I am enjoying this time and this new focus on my career. I am
not suicidal or lacking in purpose. My husband and I both work from home (he
designs websites), we live on a lake, and our schedule is our own. It is truly
a wonderful time in our lives. Sometimes I have popcorn for dinner. Enough
said.
But, would my current life be as
wonderful if I had not pursued career and graduate school and developed the
skills I am using now? Probably not. I managed to combine work and school and
motherhood. I believed I could have it all, and do it all, but to be honest –
the kids always came first. And being a mother is the strongest and best part
of my identity. It is the thing I am most proud of. My greatest achievement. And,
once in a while, I miss those days when toys where scattered across the floor,
the washer was always running, and we bought eight gallons of milk a week.
If you have children at home,
cherish those simple every-day moments with them. They really will be gone in
the blink of an eye – sooner than you can possibly imagine. Put this book down.
Now. Go sit on the floor and play a game. Pop some popcorn, put on one of their
favorite movies, and cuddle up on the couch. Live that “fantasy” right now. You
will never be able to recapture these moments. Enjoy them now. There is no
greater gift than the love of your children. Spend the rest of your day letting
it pour over you. And pour your love right back over them. You can come back to
this book tonight, after they are asleep.
As I type this, I can hear my
granddaughter waking up. I am shutting my computer off. Right now, I am going
to go upstairs and scoop her up from her crib. She will probably wrap her
little arms around my neck and ask, “Play blocks, Bomb Bomb?”
And we will play blocks.
This is one story
from Indie Chicks: 25 Women 25 Personal Stories available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. To read all of the stories, buy your
copy today. All proceeds go to the Susan G. Komen Foundation for Breast Cancer.
Also included are
sneak peeks into 25 novels! My novel, Life Is But a Dream: On The Lake,
is one of the novel excerpts featured. It is available at most online retailers
in trade paperback as well as e-book formats.
Great heartfelt post, Cheryl, it really took me back. But more important than that it also brings to light some important lessons we all need to be reminded of from time to time. Women and men!
ReplyDeleteMel, Thank you for sharing Cheryl's inspiring story. Indie Chicks is an awesome collection of "Get Up and Go" stories.
ReplyDeleteCheryl, thanks so much for your inspiration and including me in this wonderful anthology. Happy New Year to everyone! :)
ReplyDeleteThanks so much Tom, Barbara, and Sibel. And thanks to Mel for allowing me to share my story. This one was very close to my heart. :)
ReplyDeleteLove the post! Love the Indie Chicks! Inspiring all!
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping by guys and it was a pleasure sharing your story, Cheryl.
ReplyDeleteGreat post, Cheryl!
ReplyDelete