My Divided Self

On Monday my husband got the news: he was picked to write an amazing project for a super cool actor you all know. It is an historical drama about New York City with all the ingredients and characters for a phenomenal movie. It is right up Jonathan's alley. He is a cracker jack researcher, a brilliant man and has an incredible grasp of history. He knows New York as an academic and as a flesh and blood New Yorker who grew up on the East side, moved to New Jersey when the crime got bad. He is the child of a New York baker and the grandchild of a baker and real estate mogul. His family has ridden the wheel of fortune up and down in New York--through feast and famine, booms and busts. His family's story is one lost fortunes, feuds, Oedipal challenges, murky pasts, deaths in uncertain circumstances and strong, powerful, often cruel men. New York City is in him.
This project is the culmination of years of effort. It is a return to what he is truly good at, and the reward for a dogged and clear-eyed pursuit of the kind of work he wants to do here in Hollywood, at a time when everything in this city is uncertain. He never lost faith. He was the dark horse candidate and he got this job because he kicked ass and blew everyone away!
He came home the night he got the project (a huge relief after this year following the strike) so excited he could barely sit down. We drank champagne and he smoked a cigar. We talked it through. We celebrated what he--and WE--have accomplished.
He kept saying that after 20 years he felt like he was back on track. Like when he was at Harvard he was in the right place at exactly the right time and it felt good, pure, and in the flow. He was being true to who he was. He has had a wild and fascinating career--which I will not go into here, and could be a best-selling memoir in and of itself--but since Harvard he has not felt he was on track, he said, going where he was supposed to be going. Not like now.
He just kept marveling. Grinning. He is more excited about this than anything he has done so far. It almost broke my heart to see him so happy. Even I could not have anticipated how much this would mean to him.
I listened proud, relieved, excited--and fascinated. And then, I am embarassed to say, a little jealous.
I am not jealous of his success. I have worked with him on this, supporting him, encouraging him, urging him to be brave and true to his vision, trying to keep him from taking crap projects just to keep the family afloat, as our bank account drew down. To see him alight like this would make anyone smile, especially me, the one who loves him. And I know he will do the best work he has ever done on this. I believe he will win an Emmy.
I was jealous of the feeling that he is at the peak of anything he has ever done. This is the best so far. And it is going to get better. And I will be beside him believing him and helping him.
It was this.
I was jealous of that feeling that all I had done had led up to something bigger than what had come before, bolder than anything I had done yet. I was jealous of that feeling that the world was finally giving recognition that you have done something really cool.
I love my life. I love the privilege of getting to be with my children. I was sick with missing my children when I was working. Just ill some days. And my profession is dying anyway. I am getting to try out incredible things I never had time for. I am getting to experiment, to play, to celebrate, and, for a little while, to nurture, something I never did, and find I really love.
My life, my time with my children, is a blessing. I know absolutely that being with them right now, for this limited time, and supporting my husband in reaching his dream, is what I want right now. I know this is a brief period that will fly by and I want to savor it.
And yet...
Oh, to have that feeling of WOW! I did this! I have never done anything like this! Stretched myself like this! Accomplished this!
My victories, challenges, successes these days are quiet, often visible to no one but me.
Last night at bookclub, over too much wine, and prodding from good friends, I vented my feelings.
One friend was incredulous:
"What do you want, Hilary? Do you wish you were bitter, single, childless, still working at the Times?"
Good question. And it shook me back to reality, to being grateful for what I have. How many astounding blessings I have in this life.
All I am saying, is that for one night, as I watched my husband, aglow with his success, I envied him that feeling of being on a path to somewhere great. Of knowing he was the best he had been so far.

Do you ever feel like this all you mamas out there?