Here we are.
One month — actually, 31 days — into the new year.
And where do I begin?
I can’t really say that the year started off differently than I wanted it to, because the truth is, I didn’t really have any expectations going into this new year. Maybe that was intentional. Maybe somewhere along the way I learned that expectations can sometimes hurt more than they help.
But with my next birthday approaching in the coming weeks, I find myself thinking about my life a little differently.
I realize there are so many goals that were never met.
Plans that never happened.
Hopes that never became reality.
Dreams that never came to fruition.
And perhaps one of the hardest things to admit is that I never really found the answer to that question we are asked when we are young:
“What do you want to be when you grow up?”
I’m still not sure I know.
What I do know is that I am so far away from where I once imagined I would be at this point in my life that I honestly don’t know how to put it into words.
Not even here.
Not even in a blog where I normally manage to find the words for the things buried deepest inside me.
This is one of those blogs I write teary-eyed.
Actually, the tears came almost immediately.
And as I continue writing, they are beginning to roll down my face.
Because I realize something that none of us really wants to talk about.
Our time here is limited.
No one lives forever.
I know some people don’t like hearing those words, and I understand why. None of us knows how much time we have. I could go to sleep tonight and not wake up tomorrow. There could be an accident, a fire, an illness or some completely unexpected event between this blog and the next one.
There simply are no guarantees.
But age doesn’t lie either.
The years keep moving.
Birthdays keep coming.
And as they do, there is an awareness that wasn’t there when I was younger. Back then, there always seemed to be more time.
Next year.
Someday.
Eventually.
There was always time to chase the dream.
Until suddenly you realize that some dreams come with a window — and that window doesn’t stay open forever.
There is one dream in particular that I have carried with me for most of my life.
One hope.
One thing I wanted so deeply that I don’t think I could ever adequately explain what it meant to me.
And as difficult as it is to write these words, I know now that it is simply not going to happen.
That realization saddens me more than I can say.
I know God had other plans for my life.
Some of those plans I will probably never understand. And although there are times I desperately want to ask why, I also know that I may never receive the answer.
There have been surprises along the way.
There have been blessings I never expected.
There have been people, moments and experiences that were never part of the life I planned.
But even gratitude for what did happen doesn’t completely erase the sadness for what didn’t.
And maybe we need to allow ourselves to admit that.
Maybe it is possible to be grateful for your life while still grieving the life you thought you were going to have.
So how does someone overcome that?
How do you really know when it is time to let go of a dream?
I suppose, in some ways, I let go of mine a long time ago. At least my head did.
My heart?
Maybe not.
Because knowing something isn’t going to happen doesn’t necessarily make accepting it any easier.
I don’t know that I will ever completely understand that.
But if I could sit across from my younger self tonight, I know exactly what I would tell her.
Fight.
Fight for that one dream you can’t seem to let go of.
Fight harder than you think you need to.
Don’t assume there will always be more time.
Don’t keep telling yourself, someday.
Don’t let fear, circumstances, other people or life itself convince you to keep putting it off.
Because if that dream is where your heart is…
If that dream is where you find your happiness…
If that dream is where you find your peace…
Then fight for it.
Fight while you still have the chance.
And now the tears are rolling down my face to the point that I can barely see what I’m typing.
So I think I will close here.
And yes, tonight I will close with sadness.
Sadness for the hopes.
The dreams.
The goals.
The wants.
The wishes.
And especially that one dream that I now know will never, ever happen.
Maybe on this last day of the first month of 2026, I finally need to lay it to rest.
Not because it didn’t matter.
But because it mattered so much.
Tomorrow morning, God willing, I will wake up.
It will be February 1.
A new month.
A new day.
And I will get out of bed, put one foot in front of the other and see where the day takes me.
Maybe for tonight, that is enough.
Wiping tears ……. with ….
gussiewrites.com
