Growing Older Doesn't Have to Mean Growing Up

I'm still waiting to decide what I want to be when I grow up.  As a girl, my mother really tried to get me inspired to do different things.  She had me sign up to be a candy striper.  In case no one knows what that is, that's the girls who used to volunteer at the hospital and wore the red and white striped dresses.  It was generally duties such as passing out the mail, distributing the food trays, helping patients brush their hair.  Everyone wanted the job to pass out flowers in the nursery area so you could look at the babies.  I think my mom thought that would motivate me to become a nurse.  I knew this wasn't my gig because one patient I dumped chicken noodle soup down their chest when I was trying to feed them.  Another patient wanted a drink of water so I handed them the cup of water on their tray.  She takes a big gulp only to discover it was hot water for her tea.  Maybe they used candy stripers to inspire the patients to get well quicker and get the heck out of there!

Another job she landed me was as a corn detassler.  Farmers created different hybrids of feed corn by which rows they chose to detassle so the corn could cross breed.  I about gave the guy a heart attack when he went off for a moment only to come back and I had tired of waiting and started plucking off the tops.  "No! No!," he yelled.  Who knows?  Maybe I helped create a new hybrid that year.

I should have known I was in trouble when I couldn't decide between being a missionary or a go-go dancer.  One hates to limit their opportunities.  My first money making job was baby sitting.  Personally, I think the parents got taken.  I mean, what a gig to get paid to watch someones colored television (yes, I grew up only having a black and white television in my formative years), eat their food and read your Nancy Drew books once the the kids were asleep.  It was like four or five hours pay for one hour of work.

Other places of employment have been at KFC, a lumber company, a seed company, line work at a factory and a bank.  It wasn't until I moved to the Chicago area that life started turning around for me.  I had always been miffed when my mom didn't let me take a foreign language or art classes in high school.  She is a practical woman and insisted on business classes such as short hand, typing and accounting.  Perhaps had I taken the classes I wanted, life would be totally different.  Who's to know.  However, all those business classes paid off as it helped me get my foot in the door as a Gal Friday and from there job opportunities took off.

Now I have passed the age of fifty, and if I could enroll in school, I still don't know what I would want to be.  Perhaps Frank Sinatra knew best when he sang, "I Gotta Be Me." Maybe I don't have to "become" anything.  Perhaps there is confusion in thinking your job needs to be your passion.  I know for some this is true, however, we all can't pay the bills on dreaming of being an artist or a singer.  I know I would certainly go hungry.  Although with all this mid-life weight gain, that might not be a bad idea!

The light of retirement at the end of the tunnel is starting to shine.  The finish line is getting a little closer. I realize I can enjoy my passions in my spare time and in my future retirement.