To Dream My Own Dreams...

Twenty years from now you’ll be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do.  So throw off the bowlines sail away from the safe harbor.  Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.

Mark Twain

 His example taught me (Michael) a very valuable lesson.

At age 52 my grandfather announced that he was leaving the job as a milk man that he had held for 33 years, his entire adult life, was cashing in his life insurance, was selling the house he and my grandmother had lived in for most of their married life and moving several hours away.  He had a dream, apparently, to live in rural northern Pennsylvania, near where our family vacationed in a mountain cabin since my father was a child.  He was tired of the city and suburban sprawl that was encroaching on their home, with its noise, fast food restaurants, pollution and traffic.  He longed to live where it was quieter, calmer and more peaceful.  The mountains called to him and he was determined to answer that call.

So, my grandparents bought a big old, falling down farm house that had been empty for dozens of years.  It was on a big plot of land with no other house or inhabited building in sight.  There were virtually no neighbors living within miles.  It was mostly cabins and deer all around.  My grandparents set about renovating it; slowly it began to look like a livable home.  The tall weeds were cut down.  The dead porcupines were extracted from underneath the porch.  The broken glass was cleaned up.  A bathroom was put in.  Electricity was restored.  A well was dug.  A swimming pond was excavated.  The house became inhabitable and we grandkids loved to visit.  For two summers we played softball on the expansive front lawn.  I organized “Olympic” games among the cousins on the yard and in the pond.  We rode mini bikes through the fields and played Monopoly with our grandfather late into the nights; he always won.  Always.  We built snowmen in winter and still reminisce fondly about the President’s Day weekend we were all snowed in with no electricity and only a small woodstove for heat – and especially for the school we got to miss.  Those were an idyllic two years for us cousins and we loved the new home our grandparents created.  We loved how they loved to have us there.

Then suddenly it ended.  My grandfather abruptly became ill.  Very ill.  He was admitted to the hospital.  Two weeks later, he was dead.  He was much too young.

He was 54.

We were devastated.  His was the first close death I had experienced.  The autopsy indicated cancer.  No one knew he had it.

Some thought my grandfather’s dream was wasted when he died.  Some thought he took far too big a risk – leaving his job, cashing in his insurance, initiating a massive relocation and renovation project alone, moving four hours away from any family, with mostly only my grandmother to help on a daily basis –

He should have stayed put.

He should have followed a safer, less risky dream.

He should have taken on a much less daunting project at his age.

 Well, maybe.  But I say, “Not”.

Had he stayed put, not dreamed, not pursued his goal he most likely would have died severely unhappy, unfulfilled, uneasy with who he was.  But instead he threw “off the bowlines” and sailed “away from the safe harbor”.  He caught “the trade winds” in his sails. He explored. He dreamed. He discovered.  And as far as I could tell he loved those last two years of his life.  He lived them as he wanted to live.  He died doing what he’d always wanted, where he was happiest, in the place that brought him the most peace, the most joy.

My grandfather’s example has continued to inspire me as I have grown into a man and had my own dreams to follow, my own call to pursue.  His dream has reminded me that none of us know how much time we have on this earth.  That none of us have guarantees about how long we’ll live.  His dream – and his pursuit of that dream – has inspired me to strive always to live as fully as I can.  To dream my own dreams and to allow my dreams to come true.

Photo by Martin Adams on Unsplash