Waiting on Your Dream

Since my decades-ago high school days, I’ve dreamed of seeing the Colorado Rockies.

Not from a plane at thirty thousand feet or sitting on the tarmac at Denver International, but actually getting into them, hiking and photo-shooting, immersing myself in the greatest mountain range on the continental U.S.

As of spring 2022, I’d ticked all but seven states off my bucket list, but not officially made it—on the ground, outside an airport—to Colorado.

Then in mid-June, a business conference took my husband to Denver, and I tagged along for the Mile High ride. From the seats of Coors Field, where baseball’s Colorado Rockies took on the Cleveland Guardians, I could see the actual Rockies knife-edged across the horizon, the sun dropping behind them.

One week later, we stood above Rock Cut (elevation 12,200) in the heart of Rocky Mountain National Park. The view of peaks on snow-capped peaks was absolutely mind-blowing and (quite literally) breathtaking.

Worth the wait?

We crossed the park on Trail Ridge, North America's highest continuous paved road. Trekked over patches of crusted snow to reach Emerald Lake, sitting at 10,100 feet and partially filled with ice.

Hiked to waterfalls and other lakes and through meadows beneath the aspens and the jagged, stone peaks. Photographed moose, elk, marmots, and mule deer while exploring one of the most spectacular places I’ve ever seen.

I cried when I saw the mountains and cried when I had to leave, taking with me 1700-plus photos of this wonderland I’d dreamed of visiting for more than half a century.

Yeah, it was worth it.

On May 16, 2023, my debut novel—another dream that has spanned decades—will launch into the world. Inspired by a literal dream, shaped into a novella followed by three full novel versions—written, queried, and shelved (repeat!) across the years—See Me As I Am will be a published book I can hold in my hands.

I’m guessing I’ll cry.

You’re never too old to reach for a new dream. Or renew one you’ve chased across the years and let die. Resurrect it, like the Phoenix. Never give up. It may take 50 years, but the payoff—standing on the ridge above Rock Cut or holding your book in your hands—will be worth it.