Any way you look at it, life is full of expectations. Those you have for yourself. Those you have of others. Those others have of you. Mine have always been high. Across the board. It's an obsessive struggle. For many years, success to me meant arranging people, places, and situations in a particular order and then keeping all of them together. Like a puzzle, I could force it to fit and then glue it into place. Firmly. But more often than not, as much as I tried to wrestle it to the ground, my life took many turns I didn't expect. Moving to Texas, having children, working in the same industry for 30 years, buying a lake house, moonlighting as a writer, breast cancer, a divorce, post-marriage romance, my sister moving in, a recurrence of breast cancer, online dating.
After 6 decades, there's enough mileage in my rearview mirror for me to come to some conclusions about expectations. Despite my desperation to control every outcome, I can now see the true pearls were mostly unexpected, sometimes entertaining, often hilarious, occasionally profound, and all a part of a patchwork quilt not yet sewn together. It's been a lesson in courage, vulnerability, faith, saying "goodbye" and love. But mostly-humor.
