Roots vs. Wings?

I've been doing a lot of thinking. I know, shocking right? I can't ever turn this brain of mine off. She's a deep-thinking machine. But, I've been thinking lately about what's next in life for me. I feel like I'm arriving at a fork in the road come May 2023: I can return to my Texas roots or take a more adventurous route. 

Both are appealing, and in many ways either is going to be an adventure because wherever I end up in Texas I'll still be starting my new career--whether as my own dog training business or joining an already established service dog organization. I'll have my own home, even if it's small. I plan to invest in some nicer (more durable, dog-friendly) furniture. 

If I go with the "adventurous" route...well, there's no telling. I could go anywhere where there's a job. Dogs are literally everywhere and I could potentially even go to another continent if I wanted to--although that might be a little too adventurous? But there are jobs in Australia and Europe listed on the Assistance Dogs International website all the time! So...that's an option. Not one I necessarily will take, but it's there. 

I'm so conflicted though because I've got the desire for adventure and a growing obligation to family. My window for adventure will be slowly closing, I feel. I want to get married and have kids (not that those things are happening now, but they could happen in the next few years), and my parents are getting older. There's no way for me to know how long they will live or when they might need me to care for them more. Also, I want to be close to my brother's family and my extended family because I have some family members that are currently ill or may need more care in the coming years (plus I love them!). Growing obligations...

If I had been able to graduate ten years ago, or even five, I would have gone and had my adventure. I might not have worried so much about being near my nephews and niece who weren't in the picture yet. This is another reason I grieve the fact that my twenties were stolen by my health struggles--by things that I had no control over even though we did every single thing we could to figure out what was going on. 

Now I am healthy, happy, and back to being me. I am confident again--I am back to my "old" body, the way it was before I was sick (although it is definitely the body of a 31-year-old, ha!). And I'm ready to do things I wish I could have done at 22 and 23--start my career, travel, find love, get married, go on adventures, and have girls' nights with my friends. But that's not the stage of life I'm "supposed" to be in now. This is just another thing (well, THE thing) that was stolen from me. 

My life. My life was stolen from me. And now I have to pick up the pieces and try to catch up. 

This is a burden to decide between the fork in the road. How can I choose the adventure path when my nephew asked me last week, "Aunt Haley, when are you coming to our house again?" Oh, it was like a knife in the heart! I didn't have an answer for him right now even though I am still in school and I know when my breaks are. School is temporary. How much more difficult will it be if I permanently lived somewhere far away?

I'm open to living outside of Texas permanently or for just a few years. But so many people I love live there, too. It's been hard to live away from them. I know now that I can find community anywhere--I knew this about myself anyway, but now I have done it multiple times as proof to myself. And so I am torn: between my roots and my wings.

The roots and wings analogy comes from a song I sang in my high school choir. The senior class sings it every year as a tribute to their parents during the final concert. It's very sweet and many tears are shed by both students and parents (even the students that aren't graduating, because there are goodbyes and everyone is feeling sentimental). 

I looked up the lyrics: 

"As a tiny child, I had you to shelter me, giving me the roots to nourish my strength. 

I learned to stand tall and to know right from wrong; priceless are these gifts to me

With each passing year, these deep roots became my wings. 

Exploring my own world, I discovered one thing: 

there's a place that's called home with these roots that I know.

How do I say thanks? Thanks for all that I've become. How do I say thanks for these roots and wings?"

Here's the thing about roots and wings, in my opinion: my parents gave me both with tender love and care. At some point, I will return to my roots to give them the same tender love and care in whatever ways they need during their last years on earth. Plus, I just love them and want to spend time with them--and all my aunts, uncles, cousins, and their kids. My roots are strong and beautiful and I am beyond thankful. Yet, my wings are beautiful too! I so want to fly and no one faults me for it. I think everyone that loves me would probably say--you deserve to fly, Haley. You've suffered and you've worked hard to heal, and you've worked hard to follow your dreams. Go fly around a bit. 

For now, I will continue to be torn between my roots and the wings I so desire to stretch. 

We'll see where the fork in the road leads, where I fly, and when I decide to follow my roots home.

Sincerely, 

Haley