Yea, it’s one of those nights.  Sittin here, feeling the twisting serated knife traveling through my intestines.  Thinking.  What have I really accomplished?  I have a friend who blogs frequently about not having accomplished his dreams at the young age of 29.  I am on the verge of 43 and have in no way accomplished anything much to chat about.

I have my kids of course.  I raised them.  Loved them.  Watched them.  Read to them.  Kissed their boo boo’s.  Rubbed their heads and backs.  Bathed them.  Rocked them.  Tickled them.  Played with them.  Stayed up all night with them when they were sick.  Protected them from the world.  Nervously sent them off on their first days of school.  All their little “firsts”….first step, first word, first smile, first giggle…I was there.  But, was I an amazing mother?  Nah.  I tried to be the very best I could be.  I made mistakes.  But I know in my heart everything I did was done out of love.  No one could ever doubt my love for my children. They are great kids, and I love them both very much.  I am equally proud of both of them and wouldn’t trade either for anything in the world.  They are my two biggest accomplishments…and they are still a work in progress………………………..as am I.

I became a nurse.  That was a goal I had as a child.  So I can check that one off.  I’ve always wanted to be a published writer…I am actively working on that.  I always wanted to work in a field where I was helping people..I can check that off…I love my job at the hospital.  I always wanted to work with animals…check…I get to do that with my petsitting, and of course my own pets.  But unless you are leaving your mark somehow, how do you record your accomplishments?  Somedays getting out of the bed is a huge accomplishment!  Getting my belly brace down before I pee my pant is a big accomplishment!  Shaving my legs is something deserving of some type of ribbon!  So, like today…I did two loads of laundry…that’s accomplishing something…

So, I guess I was just sayin that I haven’t accomplished much in my 42 years….When I die there won’t be brilliant books left behind that I’ve written for future generations, no movie reels of me playing the female lead with John  Travolta, no CD of me jammin out with Jon Bon Jovi….nothing to remember me by…I will just be one of the many humans who walked this earth for a short time…looking and searching for answers to questions that have been asked since the beginning of time…why am I here? What is my purpose?

Maybe what we are to accomplish, is to just accept our being.