59/366: My Life In 30 Years

I had dinner with a dear friend tonight.

All day long I knew.

When I got home, I would take a picture.

Of what I felt represented.

My life in thirty years.

On the drive home from dinner.

I realized I had it all wrong.

I don't know what my life will be in 30 years.

I don't know if we will have kids.

I don't know if we will have grandkids.

I don't know where we will live.

I don't know if we will be retired or working.

I know I will be with him.

Always.

That is the extent of my knowledge.

As I was driving home tonight.

I reflected on our dinner conversation.

Love. Marriage. Kids. Friendship. Family.

Life, I realized.

Is messy.

It's like a bed.

We may make it every morning.

Snap the sheets crisp.

Tuck the corners tight.

However.

At the end of the day.

We will crawl in and mess it up again.

The next day.

We get up.

We have a choice. 

Make our bed.

Or to leave the covers in a big messy twisted heap.

Sometimes the mess is fun.

Sometimes it doesn't bother us.

Sometimes it makes us wish.

We had taken the time.

To straighten things up a bit.

The mess will always be there. 

I like it that way.

The mess is what makes life.

What creates life.

I have dreams of what my life MIGHT be like.

In thirty years.

Yet, all I know.

Is that life will be messy.

And I will wake each morning.

By my husband's side.

And we will decide to make our bed.

Or embrace the mess of that day.

Together.