I remember the day my life changed forever. I was home with my children when my father suddenly appeared at my door. As I stood there, toddlers clinging to my legs, this larger than life figure in my life, just 52 years young, broke it to me that he had just been diagnosed with dementia.
He had come to me because he knew that if anyone could make the tough decisions ahead, it was me. Ever the strong, stoic one, I would now be responsible for making decisions about his care, as his health declined. I was just 30 years old.
As I watched my dad walk out the door and drive away, I realized that in that moment, the course of my life had changed forever. I was one person before that conversation, and another after it.
Suddenly, I felt compelled to move, and move with a sense of urgency, and strong sense of purpose. I began to chase my dreams as if my life depended on it. I felt like my own clock was ticking and that I was running out of time.
I had always dreamed of owning a consignment store. So, when my youngest child went off to grade one, my husband and I took the plunge, bought a nearly bankrupt business, and began to build my dream.
Over the course of 13 years, our little business would grow and flourish. New clothing and accessory lines were added to our original consignment store and we opened a furniture store on our second level. Shortly after that, we added a kids’ store around the corner. Business was booming.
From the outside looking in, my life was freaking amazing. I travelled to NYC every 3 months to purchase inventory and jetted off on frequent buying trips. Shopping for a living seemed like a dream life.
Truth be told, I was not happy. I loved my job, until I didn’t.