Being Someone Else

Do you ever wish you were someone else? I mean someone other than who you are? A lot of people do but I’m not one of them. Call it self esteem or just plain cockiness but I know who I am. I don’t know what I’m doing half the time but I am positive that I am doing what I was meant to and being who I am supposed to be.

First and foremost, I am a child of God. I was made in His image and I believe in His word. Holy roller? No. Just a Christian. I look to God for council in whatever I choose to do before I do it. And I advise others to do the same.

I am a parent. A Momma. I have raised my two daughters to the best of my ability and I always hope that they find their way in life to be a bit easier on them than it was on me. But then again, if it were a piece of cake for me, would I be the person I am? I don’t think so. I always believe that the trials you go through in life make you stronger. Apparently, so does Kelly Clarkson, since she wrote a song about it. But I thought of it first.

I am a grandmother. A YaYa. Where the nickname came from is beyond me, but the little, blond, crazy person running around my house is one of the highlights of my life. He’s outrageous, intelligent and has personality with a capital P. Handsome and charismatic. Mischievous and slightly odd. As you can tell, I am not only a grandmother, but a proud one as well.

I am a nurse. Not by profession but out of necessity, as the two previous descriptions can attest. What parent or grandparent isn’t? I bandage bloody fingers and kiss bruised knees. I pull out splinters and put toothpaste on bee stings. Yes, toothpaste and it really works. So I can add nurse to my personal description even though I have no degree in the medical field.

I am a sister and a friend. I believe those two go together since you can’t be a sister without honestly caring about your siblings. It’s the same for being a true friend. Friends are family sometimes even more than those who share your blood. And I’d like to believe I’m a good one. I offer sympathy and advice. I am more than willing to hold hands and offer a shoulder to cry on. I am always there.

I am a breadwinner. I don’t know why it is called that but, for the moment, I bring home the bacon. Along with the other groceries. I don’t particularly care for the job I have now but at least it gives me a chance to write. No sixty hour weeks there. And a better one is on the horizon. I hope. Until my writing starts bringing in some cash.

So that’s who I am, what I do. I am proud of what I have accomplished thus far although I realize that there is more I must do. But, for now, I can honestly say that I would not have it any other way. I am me.