Seize the Day

As I was driving to the j-o-b today (somedays, “job” just feels like a bad word), I heard a song come on the radio that I hadn’t heard in a while: The Fugees, Killing Me Softly. Now, I’m not a particular fan of the group, or even of the song, but this particular song is special to me.

Ever have a song that is extremely connected to a memory? Something that triggers all senses, where you feel like you are right there again? That’s what this song is for me. It was playing every 15 minutes in the summer of 2006. That is the summer I spent in England.

I was a sophomore in college, 19 years old, and had decided earlier that year that I wanted to study abroad for the summer in England. I researched my options, looked into getting a passport, and, most importantly, starting my advertising pitch to my mom.

My mom, my aunts, and my grandmother were all against it. For one, it was expensive. For another thing, we didn’t have that kind of money, and it was expensive. Get the point?

They tried to talk me out of it:

You’re young, you have plenty of time to travel. (My mom used this one a lot.)
Wait until you’re out of school and you have a job to afford to travel.
You’ll be able to do so much more when you’re older.
Wait until you have more money – then you’ll be able to do more!

I pushed even harder than they did, and eventually I won. (Yes, it’s clear where Cordy’s stubborn nature comes from.) Thanks to the magic of student loans, I left the US in May for Richmond College, in London. I lived two blocks south of Kensington Palace, where Princess Diana took up residence. There was a pub on the corner, and two Tube stops in easy walking distance.

And yes, Killing Me Softly was on the radio all. the. damn. time. My roommate and I would listen to the radio in the evenings. I often walked around London with my portable radio, and it came with me on the many train rides I took to the countryside and to Scotland on the weekends. Of my three months there, that was the song that stuck with me.

When I hear it, I remember the dark dorm room with the single lightbulb, the heavy, wet, green atmosphere that enveloped us, the cool plaster walls, the crowded streets, the noisy, smoky environment of the pub down the street, the pigeons, the architecture, the train rides – my entire experience in England wrapped into one song. The actual lyrics of the song have no meaning – just the song itself. (Ah, the stories I could tell from my time there – they’d fill a book!)

It was my first time being totally on my own, with no lifeline. Yes, I lived on my own in college, but my mom was only a two-hour drive away. Now I was across an ocean from her, and only spoke to her every two weeks on the phone.

I look back on the experience, and I am still very grateful for my stubbornness. As I sit here at work, I think of all of my responsibilities now, and I know I will never have the chance to do something like that again. I will never be able to put my entire life on hold to spend a summer in another country, and honestly, I will never want to do it. My husband and my daughter are very important to me, and I couldn’t imagine being away from them for three months.

But hearing that song takes me back to those days, and reminds me that I did go for it. It reminds me that I won’t look back and regret not taking that trip. I can listen to the song, close my eyes (when not driving), and remember my days in England as vividly as when I was there.

So, to anyone reading this who is considering doing something for themselves that others consider foolish, I say: go for it. Do it, and do it now. As we grow older, we’re only going to gain more responsibilities and more obstacles, and waiting for another chance may cause you to wait forever. Sure, we can all look forward to retirement, if we live that long. Personally, I enjoyed being in London as a 19 year old – I think it won’t be the same when I’m 65.

Do the same for your kids. Encourage them to go for their dreams. Carpe diem!

Oh, and mom? I was so right.