What do I want to be when I grow up?
When I was little, the answer was simple. First and foremost, I wanted to be a postman. I would get to walk around the neighborhood, almost like Santa Claus with a giant sack, except instead of heavy, red pants and a jacket, my uniform would be blue. I would get to wear shorts as I drove around in a cool little vehicle filled with letters and packages. And if I wanted to, I could park the vehicle and walk around the street instead.
In my spare time, I wanted to be a nurse. Back then in addition to a pretty white dress, there was a cool hat that would sit firmly upon the head so everyone knew who you were and what you did. It was definitely a hat of authority. Even a four-year old knew it.
As a fifty-something year old, those dreams are a thing of the past. Ironically, I wish I had the ability to build things. The Christmas before my cancer diagnosis, I asked for a power sander and one other tool that escapes me. Mom doesn’t know this, but I planned to use both to redo mom’s cabinets.
I wanted to sand them down and then refinish or paint them a cherry red. I can see them now, shiny, vibrant, beautiful looking. Instead, my life changed forever and the only thing I’ve done with the tools is made some chalkboards out of salvaged windows.
<a href="https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/hammer/">If I Had a Hammer</a>
I love to watch shows in which the host shows homeowners how to repair, replace or refurbish different areas of their homes. They make everything look so simple. As I watch, there is a longing in me to be able to do what they do. If only I had believed in myself then, perhaps I would be a builder of some sort.
At the very least, my house would be filled with wonderful creations of art that were made with repurposed items, such as a ladder that houses knickknacks, windows that become picture frames, kitchen cabinets with glass panels instead of wooden ones.
Instead of a uniform, I would have a bright pink apron. A sturdy one with pockets on the front to hold my supplies, such as my measuring tape, hammer, screwdriver and screws and nails. I would have a large tool chest filled with electric screwdrivers, drills, bits, and hand held saws. To complete the ensemble, a jig saw and other tools would be bolted to the floor of the garage.
Maybe I would be a carpenter for a living or maybe it would be just a hobby. Either way, it would fulfill me. The same way photography and writing fulfill me.