Confessions of a Romantic…

I’m a romantic. No matter which way I swing it I have an idealized vision of things in my head. The older I get the more I’m able to suss out reality from the imagined, and really hold to the things that are important not the idealized fantasy of my own making. I’m sure we’ve all been there; our dreams for marriage or parenthood or special vacations rarely end up looking exactly like the real thing. Sometimes there’s disappointment in the reality always there’s adjustment and eventually we accept the truth of things and can even find them more beautiful then our imaginings.

However, Sometimes, just sometimes the rosy hued dream we had in our head actually comes true. When I was a child I didn’t dream of getting married and having kids. I didn’t aspire to be a doctor, or fancy singer. I dreamed of having a dog. With all my being I wanted and yearned for a dog. Our family dog was wonderful and after he passed away I was even more stricken for a pet of my own.


I dreamed that I’d have a dog who would love me more then anything in the world. I pictured us tooling around town in a vintage truck. I imagined me writing great works of fiction on a park bench with him laying in the grass at my side. When my feet were cold I even pictured him tucked in at the end of my bed.

I married a dog lover and we got a puppy. A mutt we named Ranger. He turned into a big goofy lovable dog. But I was working and while I loved him so much we didn’t tool around town, or write great novels together. Then we had kids and the poor dog lost some of his standing and was great with them and I was tired and grumpy and sometimes we escaped on walks together and I still loved him but there was so much noise, and we still weren’t writing any great novels.IMG_4412

Then my children got bigger and they went to school. And suddenly I was home in a quiet house with the dog who had loved me at my worst. The dog who loves me more then any other person in all the world. Just last week we went to Menard’s together and while it wasn’t in a vintage truck I did roll down the minivan windows. We decided to venture to the park by the river and there I sat with my notebook and pen and he lay in the grass at my feet panting happily. He goes with me outside, and inside he lays with me on the couch or on his bed next to my computer. Always I have my notebook and pen.

Ranger and I at the park.

It was such a beautiful feeling that one day I didn’t want to go to the bathroom for fear that he would leave his spot by my desk. And while I can’t say that I’m writing the next great american novel (in fact I’m quite sure I’m not) I am writing. It’s a beautiful awe inspiring thing to wake up one day and realize this small dream that has lived in your twelve-year-old-heart all these years, has suddenly come true.

To see that the God who made the universe made me. That He planted a dream seed and He watered it and watched it grow. And then one day, God opened my heart and I saw that He had given me something that I had always yearned for, and plenty besides. Our dreams, the real ones, the ones that are with us always no matter how far we travel from them, don’t always come true right away. And they don’t always come true the way we thought they would. But if it’s a God dream, it will come true.IMG_4731


7 thoughts on “Confessions of a Romantic…

  1. Ranger looks so loveable. I’m a dog lover too (I grew up always having a family dog) and even though we have 2 cats, I hope to get a dog of my own someday. Jean

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