Truly a Wonderful Life

Getting married at 21 was never part of my life plan. Neither was potentially living in Utah for any extended period of time. I pretty much wanted to model my life after Miss Rumphius, even if it meant growing old as a lonely spinster with cats. I didn’t care, all I knew was that I wanted to see every bit of the world that I possibly could- wanted to experience different ways of living and working and being before I settled down anywhere.

My adventures were set to begin when I decided to spend 18 months living in the Baltics as a missionary. As most of you know, that plan got seriously de-railed when I met my now-husband. It took a lot of kicking and screaming on my part, but ultimately I decided that a life with him was the greatest adventure I could ever embark on.

And I was right. Even though it meant staying in Utah so Mike could finish school and continue to run his business, the decision to stay home and marry him was the best one I have ever made.

That said, there are times when I get what I like to call “a case of the George Baileys.” As in the main character from It’s A Wonderful Life. For those of you who have not seen this classic Christmas movie A) I feel sorry for you, and B) George Bailey is this guy who dreams of getting out of his small town and seeing the world but it never happens for him, and he spends different parts of the movie lamenting his lot in life before realizing how lucky he truly is.

Sometimes when I hear about friends embarking on various study abroad trips or cross-country moves, I start to get similar pangs. There are times when I wonder if my life is too boring and inconsequential to live up to the standards I set for myself when I was younger, and that thought makes me feel downright discouraged and cranky.

But then something happens to make me snap out of it. Something like sitting around a campfire with people I have known since I was five and can still call my dearest friends, or playing a game of Go Fish with my nephew on a lazy Sunday afternoon, or simply lounging on the living room floor with Mike and Lola, looking around at the old house we transformed into our home.

These simple pleasures make me realize that, even though I still want to see the Taj Mahal and Sistine Chapel someday, I couldn't ask for anything more than a life surrounded by loved ones. I guess these moments are my equivalent of George Bailey's Christmas Eve experience, except they don’t involve an angel taking me on a tour of what the world would be like without me. Which is definitely a good thing, since that encounter would probably go something like this:

Angel: Well, Yogurt Stop’s profits are way, way, down.
Me: Crap.