Labels

There's hang ups going around. Title hangups, those places in the past where you had long and detailed titles that only reflected on you at a dinner party. Titles with a wink, because it isn't in stature or pay.

I've dabbled in being so many things, here and there, a fancy administrative this 'n that, executive and library work, co-ed, donut slinger, and cub scout leader. They are my decopague.   

I move every 5-6 years. My hair was brown, then gray, then blonde, then a hybrid, and now it's somewhere inbetween. I have six less teeth than I was born with. Thin then, not so thin now. No tattoos. One surgery scar. Three kids. One ex. A healthy crop of wrinkles.

Some of those labels do not define me in the present.  And yet, the good and bad, big and small, silly and sound, proves an ability to adapt. The world can flex and not break. When it's time to pack up the wagon and get a move on for the next phase of the journey, I can.

The hubs and I are sure of it: phase I is over. But not us. We are stronger than ever.

I pray we keep fast the wisdom and devotion to those we love; and that it shows in the choices we make; and that we stay in tune with not only what we have the right to do, but what is right to do.