on the hopes and dreams of a lifetime…

By Edna Peirce Dixon

September 12, 2014

I have reached an age when society thinks of me as old, and in truth, with each passing year the realm of possibilities seems to grow smaller and smaller; the obstacles in my path grow larger and larger. Even as I strive to be content with what is and to be grateful for the good memories, I sometimes remember with bittersweet tears, the promise of what might have been – those youthful, nebulous dreams of long ago, so impractical, so vague they held no value to any but me alone – never fostered, never honored, never fulfilled, and never will be.

But then again, I consider more carefully the gifts and abilities I use every day and a new reality comes clear. It occurs to me that just maybe a lifetime of trials and errors, passions formed, and skills developed was itself the preparation needed to bring focus to that nebulous goal of my childhood. Just maybe the promise of that dream IS indeed the selfsame path I walk after all these years. Have I come full circle or am I just beginning?

November 5, 2022 – Old musings from 76. . .still finding new beginnings at 84.

Truthfully, I’ve had this in my queue for months and forgot about it… So I’m forgetful sometimes. Don’t judge… I’ve been busy.

Published by Sings Many Songs

I'm an 80-something child of the great depression and WWII. Throughout my life I have been a seeker, an outsider, never quite belonging anywhere, still always looking through cracks in the fences of life, questioning, challenging, learning, trying to make sense of the world and its conventions. A lifelong student with many interests and a love of writing and editing, my elder's path led to encouraging and assisting some remarkable people to write out their amazing stories. This calling became the magic elixir that keeps me growing, keeps me alive.

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