I will be turning seventy-five later this month and it seems pretty monumental to me. I’ve accepted it and I’m not fighting my age, it just seems like such a long span of time. Thanks to recent events in my life, I find myself looking back more than forward. I know what you’re thinking. If he just survived cancer, shouldn’t he be gratefully looking forward? First off, my decision, and secondly, I find it and my age have made me a little retrospect. I find myself thinking about the journey, about what had I done with the time?

At first look, I had at least three successful careers: teacher, tax and investment planner, and public speaker. Along the line I even tried my hand at entrepreneurship. But what had I intended to be? Think of the little kid in you. What were your dreams? How did you answer that question when relatives and yes, teachers, would ask what are you going to be when you grow up? First off, as a kid I needed a definition of what grown up meant. Was that an age or a size? Was it when you could drive, or was it moving to your own place? Mabe having kids? It turns out it’s a pretty sketchy definition all around. I know plenty of people who have passed several of those benchmarks and, in my opinion, still aren’t grown up.

I can tell you that as my twelve-year-old self, my eyes are looking up, WAY up. I was going to be an astronomer. When I was a grown up I would be living in a space city orbiting somewhere between earth and the moon. I had my magazines filled with pictures of thriving cities complete with downtowns and lush parks floating in space. Pretty uphill battle convincing people of that life goal. No, I got the reality message early on. As I was nearing the first benchmark, graduation from high school, Viet Nam was raging and the one thing I DIDN’T want to be was a soldier. No disrespect to any of our vets and especially Viet Nam vets. I just wasn’t cut out for soldiering. Teaching became my grown-up reality, and now I sound like teaching is a fallback profession. Believe me, it isn’t. It takes skill, compassion, and patience, lots of patience.

My point here is that we don’t always end up doing exactly what we thought we would. In fact, do we end up being who we thought we would be when we were finally grown up? I adore my grandkids, all three of them, and whether or not they know it, they adore their Opa. Jackson, mister sophisticated middle schooler at age eleven is the oldest. He loves Minecraft, collecting Pokémon cards, and all things Hamilton. Based on the Minecraft and his very strong math ability, engineer? Pressed on the what will you be when you grow up question, he shocked us all and especially his teacher mother, with gym teacher. Now I have denigrated every gym teacher out there. I guess engineer designing buildings and gym teachers building strong bodies. Then there’s Adela. Adela is eight and loves anything artful. She draws and designs. Oh no, starving artist? Not that all artists starve. And finally, weighing in at two years old, Faye. Though it is still too early to name an exact skill set, she is pretty good at ordering us around. “Opa, you sit here.” or “Opa come here.” or “Opa you play now.” Ironically, half of that in Spanish.

It would be so easy for me as their doting, supportive, grandparent to cubbyhole them into a life career based on what I think would be a good fit, good job, great pay. See where this is going? Our good intentions may be the worst decisions. Jackson might end up being a passionate gym teacher or an engineer, or maybe a music industry engineer. Or Adela, artist or creative designer for a major corporation? And little Faye, tour director or US Ambassador to the Spanish Consulate? The perfect fit is the job that fits them, that fits their passion. It is for them to discover because their future is just that, still in the future.

My twelve-year-old self had big dreams. They were just ahead of their time. Viet Nam steered me to teaching and I was damn good. I was good because it turns out I was passionate about it. If those cities had been there, I am pretty sure I still would have been a teacher, but in space. In my look back I have been reminded of how life works. Left to their devices, kids CAN figure out what they want to be when they are finally “grownups.” As adults looking at our children and grandchildren, we must resist the urge to direct the choice. Instead, let THEM answer the what do you want to be question, even when it’s with a dream.

Now that I have looked back, please know that I do still look to the future. After all, I want to be grown up one day. I’m not sure what that will be, but I’m excited.