Don’t Wait for Someday

How a brief encounter with a stranger reminded me of a valuable life lesson

I was in for a long wait at the dentist’s office. I claimed the corner of the living room-style couch.

A woman opened the door for her elderly husband who was using a walker to shuffle in for his teeth cleaning appointment. As she chose one of the highbacked chairs for herself, we silently exchanged polite smiles.

She was small, slender, and advanced in years, but didn’t strike me as frail. She took care in her appearance with a little makeup and a bracelet to pair with her tailored slacks and loose linen top. When she smiled, her whole face smiled, warmly lighting her deep brown eyes.

I continued reading.

After returning from my brief visit to the staff desk, I found her sitting on the other end of my couch. She quietly apologized, assuming she had encroached on my turf or something. I said, “Not at all; it’s clearly the best seat in the house,” squishing its plump cushions with my hand.

A few more minutes into my reading, she broke into conversation.

Her accent revealed she was from another country originally, thick at times, even after many years of living in America. “Are you from around here?”

For most people in the world, this is an easy yes or no question.

Usually, I weigh how much I’m going to say about why I’m at the local [whatever] in a town far from anywhere I’ve ever lived.

Depending on who’s asking and how much time I want to spend explaining, I sometimes say as a redirect, “It’s complicated, but no. It’s very nice here; how about you?” Or in impatient moments, “Uh, no, just passing through.”

The latter was a bit of a stretch when you’re in a dentist's office. Clearly, appointments need to be made weeks or months in advance.

This cute little lady had a gracious vibe, so I tentatively explained, “Not really. We’re on a boat in the marina downtown.”

Wincing inside, I waited for her reaction.

This statement often has the same effect that admitting you own an expensive car to a group of parents barely making ends meet while their toddlers are going nuts around their parent’s knees.

It’s usually met by a polite, multi-inflection, “Ooh!” followed by either awkward questions or silence.

I get it. I used to think boats were for the filthy rich. Just like cars, some are. But in the boating world, there are more people like you than not. We just prioritize our purchases differently.

But she came to life

Surprisingly and to my great relief, her whole demeanor changed.

I struggle still to describe it.

One moment she was a proper, polite conversationalist, the next she inflated, becoming more animated, and as I came to understand, alive. “Oh, my brother-in-law used to own a boat! Do you stay on it all the time?”

From there, Alba and I engaged in a lovely conversation.

She is a housewife. She and her husband live in a fairly affluent part of town. They bought their house years ago, so they are fortunate that the neighborhood grew so desirable around them. Their children are grown and live a few hours away. Her husband is retired from a well-paying career, and they have everything they need.

Alba had so many questions about where I’ve traveled, where I intend to travel, had I crossed an ocean in my boat, did I planned to.

I found myself describing to this stranger my experiences in Fiji (by plane!) and the warm, gracious people of the island country.

I told her how I was new to ocean crossing concepts but would practice before untying from the dock for good.

We shared experiences about the challenges of being on a moving, rocking boat while underway. I learned she was seasick-prone; I was not.

I can best describe it as one of those conversations you sometimes have on a plane and actually enjoy. You feel like you are connected with a best friend for the time you are together.

Alba had dreams

As our time together felt like it was ticking down, Alba quietly admitted she would have loved to travel. But her husband, she said, pointing with her thumb over her shoulder, was a homebody and didn’t like to go out.

They spent their days at home with the television.

This is the reason she came to life when she learned about my adventure.

She seized these brief moments with a stranger to live vicariously through me and remember her dreams once more.

All too soon, her husband shuffled out from the back rooms.

She rose to steady him, leaning in to speak to him. She told him how I had a boat like his brother. “A what?” he said loudly, apparently hard of hearing. “A boat like your brother!” she said with more volume. “Oh,” he said and dismissively turned toward the door.

She looked a little sideways at me, perhaps to see my judgment of the situation.

I smiled and shrugged, hoping it said, his opinion (or lack thereof) didn’t change a thing between us girls. Then she gathered his walker and helped him out the front door.

Over her shoulder, she smiled brightly, maybe a little wistfully, before the door swung closed behind them.

Alba had to be eighty years old or very near. She still yearned for the dreams of her youth. She positively glowed when she spoke of them. Yet, with dutiful resolve, she tended to her husband in what I presumed to be his last few years.

I almost ran outside behind her to say, “Wait! You can! You can have it too!”

Or maybe more rationally, at least get her phone number so we could visit over the rest of the summer.

But I did neither. I may regret it.

As a devoted wife myself, I totally understand her commitment to her spouse. What made me sad was seeing a person, seemingly a good person, not being able to or not knowing how to realize her dreams. And her life partner apparently didn’t have a clue or care.

It was just…life happening to her. And by the glimpse of it I got to see, she would do it well for as long as necessary.

There it was. Again.

I witnessed someone with everything one might need physically, yet probably never feeling truly alive.

There was a point in my life when I committed to either being alone or only choosing a companion that would not hinder my dreams. I didn’t want to get to the end of my live having never felt the exhilaration and excitement of exploring somewhere completely new again.

In fact, the very reason I’m willing to try traveling by boat is because I would not squash a 30-some-year dream of the person I married. We’re working it out together, but unfortunately, we’ve learned this is rare.

Your dream doesn’t have to stay out of reach

You might have already taken steps in the opposite direction of your dreams. Own the decision.

But also, inform and discipline yourself to do better. Do what is good and necessary. Do it together with whomever is in your life now, and work towards dreams together.

Or if it’s truly a bad scene, get out now and make a move toward the goal yourself.

So you’ve screwed up and it might take longer. I did too.

Don’t let the “tyranny of the urgent” steal the life you want, until there aren’t anymore “somedays” to defer to.

This time is all we have. There are no do-overs.

And remember sweet Alba.

I write about the awareness and influence we can have on the outcome of our own lives. Too many of us feel stuck and don’t know what to do about it.

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