I went to a funeral today.
I go to a lot of funerals. Probably because I live in a small town and I've known most of the same people all my life. Or maybe it's because I'm getting to the age that my parents are now seniors, and many of my friends' parents are passing. Which was the case today. I didn't know the lady who passed; she was one of my former CPs' mother.
But, even though I didn't know this lady, she inspired me. Her husband died when she was very young and left her with five children to raise on her own. In a time when it wasn't common, she went to CSU and got her Bachelor's, then went back for a Master's. I'm impressed.
If that weren't enough, she joined the Peace Corp at 58, yeah, you read that right! And she traveled to Sierra Leone. When she returned the US, she started an abused woman's shelter in my town.
What does this have to do with me?
Just that I sometimes wonder why I keep chasing this dream, when it doesn't seem to want to be caught by me.
Because I don't want to die and have it written on my headstone that I didn't give it all I had. I think about giving up from time to time. Often after yet another Rejection, but I always think if I did, this would be the time The Call came in.
So, even though I left Mrs. Thornburg's funeral sad, I also left it feeling optimistic and upbeat.
Then I got home to a Rejection waiting in my Inbox.
Or pick myself up, dust off and go for round #? Oh, hell, who knows?
Guess I'll get up again...