35 And Dreaming

No matter how hard I tried, this story didn’t fit the poems I have come to post on this blog. It started with a conversation I had one afternoon in the break room.  We went from dinner to dreams by the time my late lunch was heated in the microwave.  I stayed longer to hear the end of a mom’s interpretation of her son’s dogged pursuits.  It was something that she needed to release and I happened to be the one to receive it.   Bill’s eloquence in the previous post depicts the complications that come with talking about your dreams, with putting yourself out there.  Here’s a story about dreams and not being ashamed of them.

“Hey Mom can you come home at 4 today? I have a photo shoot at the house.” Saul said it so matter of fact over the phone.  “Ok honey. Sounds good.”  Linda laughed nervously at his request.  “Good luck, “she said.  “Thanks Mom.”  She hung up the phone and sighed. Her 35-year-old son Saul recently moved back in with her and her husband.  He was working for his father during the week but wasn’t really into it.  All he wanted to do was take pictures of women in swimsuits.  Not swimsuits she quickly reminded herself but burlesque.  Saul used all the money from his day job for the photo shoots.  Linda remembers the one time she got to see some of his work.

“These are really good honey,” said Linda.  Saul tried to hide his embarrassment by being annoyed.  “Thanks mom,” he replied.  They both looked back at the camera.  There was a girl on the small screen with her physical features magnified.  Pouty, puffy red lips, breasts about to burst and bare legs with black leather boots.  She was wearing a red outfit with black ruffles, and held her feather duster to her face.  She looked at the camera in a moment of truth, admitting that she just made a mistake. Linda looked up at Saul as he turned the camera off.  “I’m impressed,” she said, trying to pry him out of his silence. “They are very artistic.”  Saul looked up at his mom as he put his camera in the bag.  “Thanks Mom” he replied and walked off into the kitchen.

She found herself surprisingly proud as the camera bag slung over his shoulder.  Proud that he was so good at something that he loved and that he put so much time and effort into it. Proud that he shared his dreams with her and he was so unafraid about all this.   She thought back on her life and her pursuits. “I just wanted to make ends meet” she thought to herself.  Now here’s her son, living with her again, taking burlesque photos after work to pursue his dreams.  “35” she said aloud.  “35 and still dreaming.”

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