The Fire within me
Dreams are not reality
The dreams I had
That drove me to push through
My nightmare, is this really life?
Society is not your friend
Strangers should not be trusted
Never let another have total control
When you loose it, disaster befalls you
It was hard to build my life guided by the life course of another. Yet I tried. My grandmother was my life role model. She was all business. She ran her own company, and hobnobbed with the top 10%. She had photos of herself with Roosevelt. I went to college and aimed for that. But how could I dismiss my true life. How could I remain focused, how could I ignore the influence of others. How could I independently fight onward. How could I remain that focused? When other drag you down, how do you remain driven and build the life you dream of.
Thirty years later I gave up. I now hang out with the bottem 10%. My heart is now guarded. Not because of my grandmother but because of others who thought their views trumped mine. My grandmother traveled the world, but not me. Being in the bottem 10% that is not possible. Now I cry, when I dream. She may have been my role model, and in a way still is, but now I have become a survivor. I am more like my mother. Like her my reflected image does not show the pain. I am silent about my struggles. But some nights I cry still wanting the dreams , which had guided my childhood and my grandmothers life. The vacation home that i thought I would be able to escape too, I do not own. In fact none of my immedi ate family does.
This reflection bring tears to my eyes. Which is progress. Before I would just feel helpless and numb. I felt like my dreams were unachievable, although drowned in fear of failure, I kept using all my energy to push myself forward. I still want to like my grandmother own my own business, and earn enough income that I could return my social security check to the government , like she did. I still gringe at the idea of using the senor pass on the bus.I feel like I should earn enough to finance my own journey forwaed. I want the pride that my grandmother had. I want her confidence, with out having to push myself through a world of terror. As a child, in her world I had that confidence. But her world is not my current reality. Now looking back, I wonder how I could have lost control of my own life and forsaken my dreams. My mother felt a sense of pride in my life, or so she told me before her death. Put when I look at my potential and my dreams, I wonder how with such an accomplished role model, and strong mother and other trial blazer women in my life , I did not achieve my dreams. I wonder how I could have let others values take control of my life. How did I loose control of my path and journey through life. How did dreams get replaced with a world were I am struggling for survival. My grandmother probably would have helped me fight, but I would have had to share my dreams with her, and she died when I was eighteen.
The dreams I had
That drove me to push through
My nightmare, is this really life?
Society is not your friend
Strangers should not be trusted
Never let another have total control
When you loose it, disaster befalls you
About the Creator
Antoinette L Brey
I am an elder in a time of freedom. I am now retired. All i want to do is have fun. Without a daily routine, my imagination is one of my only salvations. I am not planning on writing a book, it is just for my own pleasure
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Comments (3)
'A' ~ This is so interesting and relatable. I have been studying 'Dreams' online of late; even asked a vm village Psychologist about them re; why they keep repeating on me. - Thank you for your insight - j.in.l.a.
Powerful, quiet, and thoroughly human, this work highlights the might and inspiration of a grandma. Her words, imbued by mother-wit, motivate the lines and point the reader into the direction of glory and dignity. This is a complete work even in its brevity.
I often wonder the same things. I lost my gran many years ago to cancer, and she had the strength of a dragon. She was there to support me through some challenging situations, and even when my grandad died, she still pushed. My gran was a wielder during the wars, and she still managed to be the person she was. I would have loved to have done the job she had, but sadly, I wouldn't have had the strength. She fought through many battles with her health, yet still, she towered in strength while mine weakened. I too wonder how she managed to achieve success, particularly in work. I always wanted to be like my gran, which is why I can relate to your story.