I have a recurring dream. I’m a senior in college and have taken a year off of swimming due to illness (that is what actually happened-I was a senior for two years since I decided to redshirt one year of NCAA eligibility). My coach is preparing us for the upcoming season in a pep talk, and I am calculating in my head how I will get back into shape. What my weight lifting regime will be. How I will qualify for the NCAA championships. How I will swim faster than I ever have before.
But there is something in the back of my mind in this dream that I can’t figure out. As I plan and even start swimming at practice, I can’t figure out why something is wrong. Then it occurs to me. I’m 44.
As I am swimming, I am trying to think of a way to tell my coach and my team (I’m the captain, by the way) that I am actually 44 years old. I’m really tired and trying to keep up because, well, I’m 44. And I’m swimming with my 18-21 year old team mates from 1990.
I wake up and there is a flash of happiness–I might still compete. And then I remember. I’m 44.
It’s not a bad dream. It’s just a strange one. It takes me forever in this dream to remember why this isn’t going to happen.
I’m not a girl who is against saying how old she is. I think that is stupid. Who cares? You’re going to get older. I’m not fooling anyone that I’m not 44 — I don’t wear the same clothes as when I was a college swimmer (size or style), there is gray in my hair, and I drive slower.
I also think it is interesting that my first realization is of my exact numerical age (when I was 43, I would suddenly realize “oh, no, I’m 43,” etc.) I don’t think, “oh, no, I have 16 and 12 year old daughters” or “I’ve been married for 21 years” or “I have a house that needs to be cleaned” or any of that. I think, “I’m 44…”
I don’t have a real point here. I think dreams are sometimes windows into what we think and sometimes they aren’t.
I can’t be a great swimmer and compete with 18 year olds. But the realization from my dream, “oh, I’m 44” can be a good thing. There are things we are to do, and sometimes they are dictated by stage of life.
God has a new plan for me at 44. Well, it’s an old plan to God, but it’s new to me. And he is revealing it to me.
Oh, I’m 44!
One thought on “44”
You are a wonderful writer! 🙂